Crossroads to Nowhere
by Jezarro
Summary: UPDATED: Milly attempts to escape and runs into the last person she thought she'd ever see.
1. Awakening

Chapter 1: Awakening

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Trigun, Twin Peaks, or the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. I'm just a weirdo with a lot of knowledge about ultra-obscure shit.

_October 29 – __6:58 AM_

_Vash's POV_

            Very slowly I open my eyes. I roll over, rub the sleep from my eyes, and sigh. Little by little the night turns around, and the suns send twin orange beams into my bedroom. Can't believe I woke up so early. 

            Especially after last night.

            I feel the form beside me stir, moaning slightly. Smiling, I gently wrap my good arm around my sleeping wife. For a long time I just lay there, listening to her sleep. God, I'm lucky to have someone like Meryl. It's strange, but every time I'm with her, I feel like I'm actually safe. I love that feeling, almost as much as I love her. It's like floating inside a soft, warm cloud where nothing else matters, where the universe doesn't exist, where it's just me and her. 

            She mumbles softly and rolls over, moving onto her back. There's the faint hint of a smile touching her lips; guess she's having a good dream. Something about that smile makes an idea pops into my head (well, two, actually, but I don't count the perverted ones anymore). Ever so slowly, I lean over and softly bring my lips to hers. I can feel her awaken under my touch, moaning slightly into my throat as she sleepily kisses me back. She pulls back, yawns, and curls up against me. 

"Mornin'."

"Mornin', Mer." 

"Y'know, I love it when you wake me up like that." 

"I know. That's why I do it." 

She smiles and absently rubs her hand over my face. 

Heh. Had my beard for a year and she still hasn't gotten used to it. 

We've been living for almost eight months now in the town of Diciem as Randy and Sarah Carter (in case you couldn't tell, she though my name was appropriate). She works at the local cafe, and makes the best damn cherry pie anywhere. Me, I got a job at the bank as a security guard. Good thing there haven't been all that many robbery attempts, or the bank'd be smoking ruin. Luckily, the attempts so far have mostly been amateurish at best – mostly drunks out on a wild night – so I've been able to talk 'em down. Yesterday, the manager recognized my work with a promotion to head guard – get this – the same day Meryl got promoted to head cook. So, in celebration, Meryl and me bought a bottle of champagne, lit candles, put on some music, and made love all night. 

She stops rubbing and just rests her hand on my cheek, and for a long time we just lay there and bask in each other's warmth. Eventually, though, she stirs and gets up. I gently squeeze her wrist and give her the Sad Puppy Face, causing her to roll her eyes and chuckle. "You are such a pervert, y'know?"

I just grin.

"I know you don't care how you look at the bank, but bedsores do NOT look good on a chef." I pout like a kid denied his favorite toy or something. "Fine, Meryl. Have it your way." I get up, and in .038 seconds, she's in my arms and my lips are pressed against her throat. "Vash!" she shouts in that voice that's half-amused and half annoyed.

"Aw, c'mon. It's Sunday!"

"You know I have to run a couple errands over in Cola today!"

"They can wait."

"No, they can't!" 

"Pretty please?"

"Vash, the store closes at 2!"

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Vash!"

Damn. She ain't backin' down. I pout again. "Oh, all right."

She smiles in victory, then kisses me. I'm no expert in nonverbal communication, but I know what that kiss means: "Now _after 2, on the other hand…"_

_7:45 AM___

"I don't care what anyone says; you make the best eggs ever."

"Aw shucks, Meryl."

"No, seriously. You should work at the Red Star."

"Oh, I'd just cause a grease fire and burn the place down."

"That _is probably true."_

"You know it is."

She just smiles and sigh.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just love ya."

I smile back. I love having quiet mornings together. Especially if there's the chance for a quickie. And judging by the way her foot's a-movin' up my leg-

_KER-ASH!_

"WHAT THE HELL?!" we scream in unison as something huge and scarlet pours through the hole it smashed through the floor. 

Oh dear God, it's a i_sandworm_!

Wait a minute; sandworms live on the other side of the _planet_, what the fuck is one doing here?! 

The thing rears back its head and lets out an earth-shattering roar as six blood-red tentacles burst out of its skin and I realize _this thing is not a worm._

From the corner of my eye, I can see Meryl frozen in the same position as me, staring at the thing in stupefied horror.

And now silence.

The worm-thing isn't attacking.

It's just staring at me, it's eyes glowing some kind of blue. It's a weirdly familiar color, and I know I've seen it before, quite a lot, and for some reason I feel like I should hate it but how can I hate such a wonderful color it's so pure and cleansing and I'm not afraid of the worm-thing anymore after all how can something with such beautiful eyes be anything other than a tool of God

I hear my name and I turn to where it came from some woman with dark hair is standing there looking concerned but do I know her no I don't and even if I did why would I want to be with her now that I've seen perfection hey compared to this radiant beauty standing before me she's nothing better than a bug an insect a spider yes that's just what she is a spider a small disgusting spider that deserves nothing better than dea-

_EEEEEEYYYYYYYYYAAAAAARRRRRRGHH!_

Wha…

What…

Who…

_…Meryl?_

"What the hell just happened?!"

Then I see her empty coffee cup. 

Then I feel burning hot liquid on my face.

Then I dive out of the way as the worm-thing lunges towards me.

Meryl runs into the living room, and I follow suit. She yanks the door to the broom closet open and casts a glance at me, and even though I see it only for a second, I understand the expression her face: _Why the fuck are you just STANDING there?! Help me, goddamit!_

I rush past her into the closet, grab the false wall, rip it away, and pull out our guns. Very quickly I check – they're loaded – then I throw her hers and cock mine just as the worm smashes through the wall.

We take aim and let loose with everything we've got (which isn't very much). The bullets hit dead-on, one putting out its left eye as it screams in rage and fury and pain. Its tentacles lash out at us and over our heads just as we duck. Meryl aims up and fires again, blowing three of its appendages clean off. The thing bellows again and retracts the wounded stumps back into its body, but three new ones burst out. Dammit!

We can't win this way.

We run into the next room and I slam the door shut. 

"Oh, like _that's gonna help, you idiot!"_

"I know, but it'll make me feel better!" 

"Vash, we can't kill this thing! We don't have enough bullets!"

"Don't you think I know that?"

"At this point, any ideas would be welcome, Meryl!"

We look around frantically the room (which was originally supposed to be a bedroom but we just kinda use it for storage) for something we can use when I remember-

_SMASH!_

_GRRRRAAAARRRRGH!_

SHIT!

Meryl fires again and the thing's other eye goes out like a candle-flame. That should hold it for a minute or two. No time to think! Where did I put it?! Is it – no…not there either…n – 

There it is!

C'mon, baby, please work please work please work please work please-

YES!

I lunge towards the thing and introduce it to my friend. Six tentacles are instantly down and it screams and backs out of the room. I chase after it and hit it again and again and its limbs fall off faster than it can regenerate them until it finally reaches the hole in the kitchen floor. It slides back in at lightning speed and disappears, its screams echoing down the shaft.

I stand there on the edge of the pit, chest heaving, trying desperately to catch my breath. Shutting off my weapon, I sit down (well, fall down, actually), and hear Meryl walk in. I look up at her, and she down at me until finally she breaks the silence. 

"Vash, when in the _hell_ did you get a _chainsaw?!"_

Pause.

Cue laugh track.

We're both on the floor and hysterical giggles are blasting out of our throats like freight trains. 

I don't know why we're laughing so hard. 

Maybe because I bought the chainsaw yesterday as an impulse buy.

Maybe because Bernardelli is never going to believe us.

Or maybe it's due to the fact that we have just cheated an almost certainly gruesome death.

But finally the mirthquake subsides and we lay there catching our breath.

"Am I interrupting something?"

We whip around, weapons at the ready, and see a tall, black-clad incredibly pale man standing in the doorway.

"I mean you no harm, Mr. Stampede."

_Oh, my fucking God he knows who I am._

"I'm sorry, sir," Meryl stammers, "but I think you have the wrong guy. He's Randy Carter and I'm –"

 "Don't give me that, Ms. Stryfe. I know who you both are and judging by the state of things I can see that you are in far deeper than you can possibly imagine."


	2. Loss

Chapter 2: Loss

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Trigun, Twin Peaks, or the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. I just read and watch too much.

Meryl's POV

_October 29 - 8:03 AM_

All I wanted was to have a nice, quiet Sunday; first go to the store, then get a new key for the jeep, then come home and have a lot of quality time with my husband. 

Was that so much to ask?

Instead, said husband got hypnotized, I almost got devoured and my house got nearly destroyed - all by a refugee from an H.R Giger painting. 

And to top it all off, there's a smirking, pasty, bearded man who knows who we really are standing in the doorway to what used to be our kitchen.

Lucky me.

"I must say, Mr. Stampede," the mystery man says, "your reputation is well-earned. Truly, only a Humanoid Typhoon can be attacked by a cthonian and survive."

"A what-ian?"

"Cthonian. Native of the planet, very fast digger, proficient in mental abilities, and forebears of your pedestrian sandworms."

Pedestr-?

All right. That tears it.

 "Listen, buddy, who the _hell _are you and WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!!!"

He chuckles. "Just call me Mike, Ms. Stryfe. As for the reasons behind my presence…let's just say, your husband and I have much in common."

"Prove it."

"Very well."

He steps out of the doorway, and for the first time I see him fully.

He's missing his right arm.

O-_kay_, so that's kind of creepy…but it still doesn't prove anything.

"I suppose next you're going to tell me that a psychopath with mental powers and weird hair took it."

"As a matter of fact, that is _exactly _what happened."

 "Bullshit!"

"Meryl, yeesh," Vash meekly interjects, "calm down. You don't have to shout."

"I'M NOT SHOUTING!!!"

"Okayhoneywhateveryousay."

Grrr….

"Listen, 'Mike', I don't know who you are or where you came from but unless you tell us what the HELL you're doing here or WHY - "

"_EEEEYYYYYAAAAAUUUGGGHHH!!!"_

"VASH!"

Almost instantly he stops screaming and lays crumpled on the floor, still clutching his head, gasping.

"Knives…" he whispers.

"What?"

 His head snaps up and faces me, and his eyes are wild and terrified.

"Meryl, we have to get to Knives! He just contacted me! We have to get there before it's too late!"

"Too late for what? Vash, what's going on?! What about Milly?!"

"I don't know! Load your gun! We gotta go!"

I grab my derringer, run back to the closet, reload, and join Vash, who's already running towards the jeep. Just as we drive off I turn around and look at our house. From the outside it looks normal, like nothing happened.

Mike is standing there too.

He's smiling. 

_8: 12 AM_

Vash had no lasting side-effects of his and his brother's gunfight, but then again, he didn't get shot in any vital places. Knives, on the other hand, apparently got a bullet somewhere in his spinal area. About a month after he woke up, Knives discovered he had become an epileptic. He would have seizures almost on a regular basis, but his damn pride kept him from letting any of us help. Somehow, Milly grew on him and he allowed her to take care of him. Now, I don't know what Ms. Optimism did, but after only four days in her care, his seizures all but stopped. 

Apparently her endlessly sunny disposition had an even bigger effect on him: his rage and fury and bloodlust faded down to mild annoyance - or so he let on. I still didn't trust him, but Vash had determined his bother mentally fit and bought him a small house outside of LR. Milly went with him, saying she'd stay with him for a year or so and see if he had any more episodes. 

It's been about six months, and things have been quiet. His seizures are just twitches, and he hasn't gone on any genocidal rampages. 

I still don't trust him.

…wait. Why did I just go over that? I _know_ it all, and it's not like I'm _telling _anybody.

…am I?

It's weird, it feels like there's something in my head, creeping silently through my memory…but there isn't. There can't be, can there. No. No, there isn't. I'm just nervous is all. Yeah, that's it. Just nerves.

The feeling of the jeep braking snaps me out of my reverie and I look at my watch. We've been traveling for…_ten minutes? _Felt a lot shorter.

"That's strange. Doesn't look like anything happened, Meryl."

"Don't let that fool you."

He nods.

We get out of the jeep and move towards the house. Vash is right. Nothing looks out of place. Not even the little garden Knives was cultivating. Everything seems A-OK. 

But I know better than that.

Very slowly and cautiously we walk up to the door. Vash takes out his spare key, puts it in the lock, and turns it, the takes it out with a puzzled expression.

"It's already unlocked."

Something's amiss, all right: Knives always locks the door. Even if he's just going out to check the mail.

We look at each other, nod, and very slowly open the door and peek in.

Too dark to see anything. Lights are off and the curtains are drawn. Even the light from the door is too thin to leave a mark.

We push the door open, walk in, turn on the lights, and freeze. 

The place is torn up more than ours, but not in the same way. Granted, ours looked like someone had taken a cannon to the walls, but this is…I don't know…_scorched. _Everything looks like it's been napalmed. All the walls have charred holes in them, like giant cigarette burns. The furniture is razed to cinders, and the reek of burning wood and molten steel hangs in the air. There's another scent, though, underlying it. A phantom scent, just strong enough to be noticed but not enough to stand out. It's vaguely familiar, but what it is, exactly, I can't quite…

"Something's wrong, Meryl. I can't sense Knives."

"You can't?"

"Not even a bit. Not even his spectral trail. He only does that when he's hiding."

"Hiding? Do you think…do you think _he _did this?"

"No, he sent me a distress call. If he had done this, he wouldn't have even thought about me."

            "That is probably tr-"

            It happens so fast I can't even think, much less react. All I can do is stand there as it burns itself in my eyes like a series of photographs.

_Click…_

Something runs past me.

_Click…_

It grabs Vash.

_Click…_

It pins him to the wall.

_Click…_

I finally move.

_Click…_

Something hard and fast hits me in the face.

_Click…_

I hit the wall on the other side of the room.

_Click…_

I see the figure.

It's Knives.

I get up and prepare to leap at a moment's notice, but Knives isn't doing anything. 

He's just staring at Vash. At his eyes.

Then he pulls Vash off the wall, dusts him off, and uncocks his gun.

An awkward hush hangs over the scorched room like a leaden blanket.

Finally Vash breaks the silence.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Knives?"

"I don't know."

"Don't know?" I yell. "Don't _know?! _What the hell is that supposed to mean?! That doesn't mean anythi- Where's Milly?! And what the _fuck_ happened to your house?!"

"Again, I'm not sure."

"_Answer my questions!!_"

"Meryl, for the love of God, if he doesn't know then he doesn't know."

"STOP DEFENDING HIM!"

"_He hasn't done anything!_"

"No," Knives mutters, turning to Vash, "but _you_ have."

"What?!"

"Well, it wasn't you, but it looked like you."

"What did?"

"Whatever did all this."

"Wait a minute," I say, "All this was done by _one _person?"

"Yes, but I don't think it was a person."

"Goddamit, stop being so fucking _elliptical_!" 

"_I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT WAS!!_" he roars. "All I know is that it looked like Vash, _but its eyes were white!_"

"I believe a doppelganger paid you a visit, sir."

We wheel around and see Mike standing in the living room.

"How'd you get here so fast? You were still at our house half an hour ago."

"True. And as matter of fact, I'm there right now."

"That's not possible."

"Oh, I think you will find _any_thing is possible, Mr. Stampede."

Knives cocks his gun.

"Vash, who the hell is this?"

"He says his name is Mike, but truth be told I have no idea who he is."

"Don't worry. You'll find out when the time is right."

"Alright," I growl, "enough of your metaphysical bullshit. What did you say did this?"

"A doppelganger. A double of a person, perfect in nearly every way. Save for the eyes, which are always blank. At any rate, why don't you tell us just what happened, Mr. Knives?"

"Think I will. I was eating breakfast when the doorbell rang. Milly went and got it, and Vash was standing there. He comes in, and acts like everything's normal. Only I couldn't sense him, so I know something is wrong. I get up, walk over to him, ask if something's the matter. He looks at me, says, 'If you haven't figured that one out yet, you're stupider than I thought!' He whips off his sunglasses, and I see his eyes. Milly screams, he grabs her, turns around, says 'time to begin the lesson' and generates a blast of flame that sends me flying across the room and into the bookshelf. I pass out, come to a minute later, see everything's burnt, and scour the house for Milly or the thing. About that time, I hear your jeep pull up, grab my gun, and hide in the hall closet. The rest you know."

"You're lying!" I shout. "That story makes no sense! How can ONE blast from the middle of the living room burn every room in the house an equal amount, but leave _you_ unscathed?"

"Because it wasn't fire, Ms. Stryfe. It was acid. A special type, used by the cthonians to burn through the mantle of planets. Your brother-in law's plant physiology is immune to it, however."

Knives' head whips around, and for the first time ever, I see actual surprise in his eyes. 

"How did you know I'm a -"

"Oh, I know much about you and your brother. Much more than either of you know."

All right, I have now officially Had Enough of This.

"Look, cut the All-Knowing Mr. Wizard bullshit and tell us what the hell is going on!"

"No."

…

Wha-

"Ex_cuse_ me?!"

"No. If I told you, you would not believe me. You must first see for yourself."

"Okay," Vash says, "that sounds reasonable. How?"

"Go back to your house. Follow the tunnel to the end. You'll see what I'm talking about."

"How do we know you're not with those…things?"

"You don't. But frankly, if you want to see your friend Milly again, you have no choice but to trust me."

Damn. He's right.

Knives glances up suddenly.

"Wait…_your_ house got attacked, too?"

"Yeah, but nowhere near as bad as this."

"Why do you get special treatment?"

Mike smiles, and heads for the door. He gets to the threshold and turns around.

"Favoritism," he says.

He leaves. I look out the door, but he's gone.

_8:48 AM_

Looking into the yawning chasm, an old poem I read in high school springs to mind:

_We stand upon the brink of hell_

_The glut'nous maw of Death_

_And from out the fuming well_

_It's rotting, sulf'rous breath_

Who wrote that? Eliot? Lovecraft? No, maybe it was - oh fuck all that, we gotta get on with this!

We all look at each other nervously. Don't know why. We're just going to go to the end of this tunnel, then come right back. Besides, it's only ten feet or so down, the a straight shot forward, so far as we can see. And even if we run into trouble, we're all armed to the teeth and we have the chainsaw.

Vash looks to Knives.

"After you."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"You're older."

"By three seconds!"

"The principle's the same!"

"How 'bout _you _go first, and _I'll _follow?"

"How do I know you won't just turn around and run?"

"You know me better than that. And even if I do, your woman would shoot me!"

"We're all going together at once!" I say.

"Fine by me," they say in unison.

Christ, but they creep me out sometimes.

We get in a line, one next to the other, and start down the tunnel.


	3. Hell

Chapter 3: Hell

Milly's POV

_Time unknown_

This isn't our house. Where's Knives? What am I doing here? I didn't drink _that _much…did I? No, I – I didn't drink at _all_ last night.

Then why can't I remember anything?

Where am I? What's going on?

Steady, Milly, don't panic. Remember what Daddy always said: "if you're lost, look around you. Observe and you'll find your way out."

Right. Okay. Look around. Take charge of your surroundings.

I'm sitting in a black wingbacked leather chair, in a room surrounded by bright-red curtains. If there are walls, they're behind the curtains.

Okay, good start. What else?

The room has a tiled floor. The tiles are a zigzag black-and-white pattern. There's a couch opposite from me, with a chair next to it. Chair and couch are apparently made from the same black leather material. There's a pedestal in the corner, with a white marble statue of a nude lady with her hands protecting her modesty. Two floor lamps stand on either side of the pedestal. Other than that, the room is bare. 

But that still doesn't answer where I am.

_Yyyyyyoooooouuuu aaaaaaarrrrrrreeee nnnnoooowwwwhhheeeerrrreee_…..__

…who said that?

"Who's there? Where are you?"

_IIIIIII aaaaammmm nnnnoooowwwhhhheeeerrrrreeee_…

"Who are you?"

_IIIIIII aaaammmm nnnnooooo ooooonnnneeee_…__

"You have to be somebody!"

_IIIIIII aaaammmm nnnnooooo ooooonnnneeee_…__

"If you're no one, how can you talk?"

_Thhhhhaaaaatt iiiisssss wwwwhhhhhhaaaaaattt IIIII wwwwaaassss maaaadddeee ffffffoooooorrr_…

"What do you mean 'made for'?"

_IIII aaammmm buuuuutttt aaaaa mmmmoooouuuuuttthhhhpiiieeeccceeee_…_ aannnd aaa guuuuaaaarrrrrdiiiiaaaaannnnn_…

"For what?"

_Aaaaaa grrrreeeaaattteeerr pooooowwwwweeeeerrrrr_…__

"Well, can I see you? Can you at least show yourself?"

_Yyyyyyyyeeeeeessssss_…

The shadow of something big flutters across the floor, and I look up. There's nothing. There isn't even a light source up there. There's only the ceiling.

Then what's casting the shadow? 

I look down and see the curtain aside from me rustle. A person walks out of it, and I start up in surprise. I don't know what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't a dwarf in a red dinner jacket. And he's not really walking. He's…_dancing_, only he's kind of walking at the same time.

He dances over to the couch, sits down, looks at me, and smiles.

"Let's rock!" he says.

His voice sounds strange. Like he was talking in some dialect, only it's not one I've ever heard before. And it's not the same one I heard talking just now.

"Just because I have two voices doesn't mean I am not the same person."

Wha?

"Did you just read my mind?"

He smiles and shrugs. "Maybe I did."

"But – where am I? How did I get here?"

"I told you. You are nowhere. As for how you got here, you were led off the path by a false friend."

"False friend?"

"You don't remember? Oh, of course you don't. He doesn't work that way."

"He? He who?"

"One moment."

He rubs his hands together, smiles, and another shadow passes by. I look up again. I still don't see what's causing it. 

"Don't worry about it," the little man says. "Just a tourist."

He stops rubbing, and suddenly the memories flood back. Last night. This morning. Vash at the door. Pain.

"So you remember. But that is all I can tell you now. The rest you must find for yourself."

He hops off the couch, and dances to the curtain. 

"Wait," I call, "who are you?"

He turns around and looks at me, still smiling. 

"Just your average little man from another place."

Then he turns back around and leaves.

I get up from the chair and walk over to the curtain where he disappeared. I push it aside and find a small hallway, flanked on either side by the same red curtains. I walk down it for a while, and then come to a dead end. Does this curtain lead to another room?

Yep. Sure does.

In fact, this is exactly the same as the room I was in before. I haven't been walking in circles, have I? No, I've been following a pretty straight line. 

Haven't I?

Yes, I have. This is another room, only it's decorated the same way as the other one.

I pass through it and walk down another hallway, which stops at another dead end. 

Another room, just like before.

This is getting kinda creepy.

I walk to the left curtain, then go down that hallway.

Same room.

Okay, Milly, calm down. Just caaaaaaaalm down. There's no way this is the same room. That's just silly.

Look, I'll even prove it to you.

I walk over to the marble statue, push it over onto the floor, and step back as the shards fly past my feet.

Ah, well. There's more where that came from. At least three more.

I open the right curtain, go down the hall and into another room.

Yep. Statue's still there.

I grin smugly as something crunches under my feet. I look down.

No. That's not possible.

There's a broken statue on the floor.

But there's another where the first one stood.

Did the pedestal just grow another one or something?

I shove that one off and it shatters alongside its mate.

I run through the drape, across the hall, and into another room.

Three statues. Two on the floor, one not.

All right, Milly, you may now commence panicking. 

_"Where in hell am I?!!"_

"You just answered your own question."

Very slowly I turn around…and my eyes widen in shock as my legs give way.

No.

It can't be.

It's impossible. 

There's just no way.

"M…Mr. Priest?"

"Huh. So I'm down to 'Mr. Priest' level, eh? What happened to 'Nicholas'?"

I can't speak.

I can't think.

I can't even move.

He looks just like he did when he left. Even his hair's the same length.

"But, but…you're dead."

"Yeah, I guess I am. Why else would I be here?"

"You know where 'Here' is?"

"You mean you don't? Guess I'm lucky. I get to officially welcome you to hell."

…what?

"Hell, Milly. What part didn't you get?"

"Is…is something wrong?"

"You bet there's something wrong, baby."

He steps closer. His eyes seem to glare from behind his sunglasses.

"_You're _what's wrong."

"What?!"

He sneers.

"Don't pretend you don't know, you double-crossing, backstabbing, crab-cunted little _whore!_"

I can't believe what I just heard. Why did he just say that? 

"You remember that night, don't you? Before I went to fight Chapel? When I asked you to stay with me and you did? I remember, but I guess you don't. You said you loved me, remember? Or was that just pillow talk?"

He looms over me.

"I guess it was. Otherwise, _why would you fuck the man who killed me?!_"

"No! No, that's not true! I never-"

"Chapel didn't kill me, you bitch! It was KNIVES! But I guess you didn't know that! I guess all you could think about was how much of a _stud_ he is!"

This is not happening. This can't be happening! This _has _to be a nightmare!

"Well, it isn't!" he shouts as his palm connects with my cheek and sends me flying across the room. I land on the couch and send it toppling over and I hear him stomping towards me.

"Please…I'm sorry…"

"It's far too late for that now, _dear_!"

He grabs me and spins me around, and I almost scream when I see his face: It's unrecognizable, contorted into a mask of pure rage.

"What are you going to do?" 

"Well, for starters, I'm going to have what's mine!" he screams as his hand finds my blouse and rips it open. 

No! Anything but that!

I thrash and thrash but I can't get free. His grip is like iron and he won't stop!

"Please!" I plead as he rips the last of my clothes off. "Stop! Don't do this!" 

His sunglasses fall off and I see his eyes and they're white and I'm shouting but no one seems to hear and I can't move and and _oh God no please don't do this Nick!_

"Why not?! The way I see it, _YOU OWE ME THIS!!_"

_Later_

I come to with a jolt and look around but I'm alone in the red room.

Memories of what just happened flood my mind like grains of sand in a storm: countless numbers of them, each fiery and wounding.

The tears I've been holding back ever since I woke up in this nightmarish red-lined maze finally burst free and I curl up in a fetal position, squeeze my eyes shut, and cry, cry, cry. 

Not all of my tears are about my violation. I don't know what that was, but it wasn't really Nicholas. No matter what I did, in this world or the next one, he would still love me. He told me so himself. 

But what he said hurt me worse, because maybe he's right. _Did _I desecrate Nick's memory because of… 

I don't know what happened between me and Knives last night. I mean, I _know_ what happened, but I don't know _why. _

No, that's not true. I do know why, or at least part of it. 

I did it because I wanted to help him. Maybe I was mistaken, but under all his rage and sullenness I saw a scared, broken, lonely man who just wanted someone to be with him. Someone to accept him. 

Someone to love him.

And maybe I was right. Last night, I felt like he was letting out all the pent-up feelings that decades of isolation had gouged into his psyche.

And even though he tried to pretend as though nothing happened, this morning I could see in his eyes that he was the most content (I wouldn't say happy) he had been in a long time.

I wonder where he is right now. Is he looking for me? Has he gone to Vash and Meryl?

Or does he even care?

I open my eyes.

No. He does care about me. He's shown it, in his own wa-

Wait.

My clothes are on. 

Undamaged.

No sign of tearing, or even ruffling.

Does-

Does that mean-

Does that mean what just happened…_didn't?_

No, it-

Stop.

Think, Milly. Observe.

Obviously, whatever force is behind this can mess with my mind, as well as read it. The little man proved that when he restored my memory. And if he was just a servant of a "greater power", which could theoretically shape my memory and perceptions any way it wants.

Which means the rape was all in my mind.

Which means this "greater power" doesn't really have any power.

Which means…

I think I know how to get out of here. It's a crazy plan, but I think it just might work.

I get up and wipe the tears from my face.

Big girls don't cry.

Big girls get even.


	4. Discovery

Chapter 4: Discovery

_October 29 – __1:35 PM___

Meryl's POV

Final tally: six loosened teeth, three fractured bones, a shin-splint, eighteen bruised back muscles, and a lacerated eyeball. 

If nothing else, this gave an opportunity for Vash to prove his uber-selflessness: Despite our protests, Vash patched me and Knives up first. And as for his injury – well, let's just say watching someone pull a three-inch stone shard out of their eye socket is NOT an experience I _ever_ want to go through again. He dismissed it, of course; said this wasn't the first time he'd been stabbed in the eye. Then we all fell into silence, mulling over what we had all just been through.

_9:04 AM___

Knives' POV

            It should be dark in here, but it's not.  The tunnel is filled with light, which seems to emanate from the end of the line. I don't know how far it is to there; the light makes it impossible to judge distances. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the tunnel are smooth, fused into a single tube of obsidian-tinted glass as though by incredible heat. If what this "Mike" said was true, and this is the result of acid, I should be thankful that my house was not completely destroyed.

            Mike. That man baffles me, for I do not know what he truly is. His aura vaguely resembled that of a spid– human, dammit, _human_ – but somehow it felt as though he is…_more_. The closest thing I can compare it to is Legato, but whereas his aura was in a constant state of berserker rage, Mike's is much more controlled. And more powerful. Yet it is empty power; it felt all but spent. This puzzles me deeper, for getting rid of such an amount of power would require either a massive discharge of energy, the likes of which would level entire galaxies, or a slow dissipation over a span of centuries.

            Either way, Mike is clearly more than what he seems. 

            "Hey, Knives, ya fall asleep walkin'?" Vash's pet screeches from ahead. I growl and speed up, not wishing to hear her voice again. God, what a bitch. I honestly don't see what my imbecile brother sees in her. And the mere thought of them becoming intimate turns my stomach; it would be little more than coprophilia.

            Finally, we arrive at the back of the tunnel. Once again, this light confounds me: by all laws of physics, it should be brighter; but the intensity is the same as it was when we entered. At any rate, it's a dead end.

            Wait. No, it's not. The tunnel makes a sharp curve to the left, which is where the light is coming from. This corner reflects the light. Perhaps that's why it does not dim. No, the light's the same magnitude from the left, as well… 

            At any rate, we turn right, and the way becomes hazy. In short time the luminous mist fills the tunnel, and I cannot see more than a few feet in front of me. I reach out for Vash, and my hand lands on his head. He screams and whirls around, knocks me down, and raises the chainsaw.

            "It's just me, you stupid bastard!" I shout and get up as Vash steps back, a severely embarrassed look on his face. I brush myself off, and the sound of tiny pebbles hitting the ground reverberates down the tunnel.

            Wait a minute…tunnels don't echo.

            "Vash?" I hear Meryl whisper and I quickly shush her. She starts to protest, but I hold up my hand. She closes her mouth, clearly annoyed. I stomp my foot and listen to the echo. Just as I thought: the tunnel opened out into a cavern. And judging by the time delay of the echo, it's…

            …alright, now I'm getting pissed. The echo sounds like it's coming from multiple sources. So either this cavern is very uneven, or it's incredibly huge.

            I close my eyes, channel energies to them, and open them. It's a special type of visual acuity unique to plants, wherein we can "see" energies not visible to the unaided eye. Normally I use it to seek out other plants, but occasionally I use it to be able to see during sandstorms. I call this type of special vision "night-eyes", but if anything it's like looking through blue-stained glass. 

I look past the mist, through it, beyond it, and I see the sheer enormousness of this cavern. It resembles a squat three-dimensional ellipse, and every surface is covered by the same fused-glass substance I saw in the cavern. The walls are pockmarked with thousands of holes of varying size, presumably leading to other tunnels. There is a gigantic pit in the middle of the floor, and a corkscrew path leads down it. I begin to see something else, but I close my eyes and go back to normal vision just as it becomes clear; I can only do night-eyes for so long before my real ones begin aching. 

I realize what I saw in that last split-second: the pit glowing – no, _blazing _– with energy. But it's not plant power, otherwise I would have been able to sense it. Clearly, this merits investigation. I begin walking towards where I saw the pit, and hear Vash call out from behind, "Knives, what are you doing?"

"I'm going in."

"But we were just going to the end of the tunnel!"

"I saw something. I'm going in."

"What do you mean? You can't see anything here!"

"Look, either go back, or come with me."

I continue walking, and eventually hear running footsteps from behind as my brother and his pet catch up.

"You better have a damn good reason for this," she growls.

"I do. Though you have no reason to do this, trust me."

"Fuck that," she snorts derisively.

            I clench my fist incredibly tight; it wants to fly out and smash her in her filthy, rotten mouth. Fucking hell-hag.

            The mist begins to thin, and eventually it disappears just as we reach the mouth of the pit. We look down and they let out a collective gasp. 

            The corkscrew path winds down farther than I can see, and the walls are lined with what appear to be thousands and thousands of enormous cocoons. It is from these cocoons that the light is emanating, causing an effect akin to backlighting. Vague outlines of the things inside the cocoons are visible, and the half-glimpsed forms suggest little more than great immensity, but here and there are what appear to be tentacles. 

            I'm walking down the path before I even know what I'm doing. Dimly I hear Vash and Meryl calling to me, asking me what I'm doing, if I'm crazy, what the fuck is my problem, etc. I pay no heed to them; I cannot. It feels as though some invisible hand has me by my innards and is pulling me inexorably down, down, down.

I wonder; is what's pulling me down the same thing that's responsible for everything that's been going on today – Vash's hypnotism, my house's near-destruction, Milly's disappearance? If so, there's going to be hell to pay.

One thing's for certain, though: it stinks, and it's getting worse. It's the same scent as was back at the house, hiding under the fragrance of burnt wood and metal. It's vaguely familiar, just like this light, but I can't quite identify it. 

Then I stop. The force is gone. I'm at the bottom of the path.

How long have I been walking? 

I look up and my confusion redoubles – from this vantage point, the top of the pit is only about a hundred yards or so above us.

I am standing in front of the entrance to another cave, only this one is roughly resembles a giant Gothic archway.

The tugging comes again, and I try to fight it this time. Deep, searing pain courses through my veins for the briefest of seconds, and any thoughts of defying this force are immediately gone from my mind. I close my eyes – after all, what I can't see, I can't fear.

The pull stops again, so I open my eyes.

I immediately wish I hadn't.

Before me is a stone wall so huge the top is obscured in darkness and the sides seem to go on forever. But that is not what terrifies me.

The wall is carved with a giant fresco depicting a gruesome orgy of blood by great, rubbery, tentacled monstrosities the likes of which only a madman could dream up. But that is not what terrifies me.

In the midst of this grisly bacchanal of carnage and carnality stands a demon that towers over the others, apparently feeding on the sex and death surrounding him. He appears to be getting bigger. But even _that_ is not what terrifies me.

No, it's the fact that the demon's face…is my own.

Distantly behind me I hear feet slapping fast against the obsidian floor and realize that Vash and his cow have followed me. The sound of them stooping alerts me to the fact that they have seen this monstrosity. 

But what does it _mean?_

My first thought is to believe this is an elaborate scheme concocted by someone I've hurt in the past, but that can't be.

No. No, this is evidence of something far more sinister. Something far more enigmatic. Something far more _deadly_.

I feel Vash's hand on my shoulder, and my mind registers that it's shaking.

"Knives, uh…I think there's something you should know."

Giant tentacled things that resemble mutated sandworms have crawled out of the darkness to either side and are rapidly advancing towards us. 

So these are cthonians.

They don't attack; they just stand there, watching us. Waiting for us to make the first move.

"What now?" I ask to no one in particular.

"Run like hell," Vash replies.

So we do.


	5. Escape

Chapter 5: Escape

_October 29, __9:36 AM___

Vash's POV

This is bad. This is bad. This is oh-so-very bad.

I'm inside a subterranean cavern untold miles beneath the surface of Gunsmoke, standing next to a gargantuan mural depicting my slightly-unhinged brother reveling in a snuff orgy, and to top it all off I'm surrounded by a bunch of ugly, slimy, tentacle-y thingies.

Things have now officially Gone To Shit.

"What do we do now?" I hear Knives mumble to no one in particular. Only one option left, I think: run like frightened little church-mice. We haul ass like never before, but the cthonians don't move. Then one unleashes a bellow, which is echoed by the others until the small cavern is filled with the din of a dozen hellspawn.

I might not speak their language, but I get the general idea: _CHAAAAAAARGE! _

They pour towards us in a scarlet flood, and we open fire on those who block the entrance. They scream and thrash, and a domino effect makes most of them fall over. In preparation for this little excursion, I replaced the regular bullets in all our guns with Piledriver bullets, which apparently paid off.

We reach the cave mouth seconds before another wave scrambles over their fallen brethren and lunge at us. Knives cranks up the chainsaw and swings it wildly in the general direction of the burrowers and the whirling blade sinks into soft flesh and rips out the other side to the sounds of guttural shrieking, and he moves to the next and repeats the process. He hacks and hacks as if the saw were a living sword and bright-red – almost pink – ichor gushes out of the wounds in grisly fountains and splashes him head to foot. He raises the saw over his head, shakes it and screams like a Scottish warrior, escapes the sanguine baptismal and joins us just as we start running the winding path. We reload in record time and recommence firing as we run faster than we ever have, and I look up and try to get a mental picture of how far we have left to go, but the fog has suddenly grown thicker and obscured the top; I guess the only viable option is to keep going and hope for the best. The light from the cocoons has not diminished; if anything, it's glowing brighter, like it's feeding off the violence.

The cthonians have burst forth from the cave mouth, some even burrowing through the rock wall, acid oozing from their tentacles and burning smoking holes in the floor. They head for the path and reach it in seconds, some try to crawl up the path but most just ooze up the walls. Knives lets loose another battle cry and charges into the fray yet again, saw spinning at full blast and he lays into them mercilessly as Meryl and I keep shooting and running. Knives stops his onslaught, mumbles something, and runs up and joins us. He tries to start the saw, but from the looks of things the blade is clogged with gore. He groans, yanks his gun out, and starts firing again. Fifteen seconds later we've cut through at least half the ranks, and from the look of things, there aren't any replacements on their way and I think, _we're gonna make it!_ Then the cavern rumbles as a deep, nearly sub-audible roar shakes the very foundations, and the cthonians stop coming at us as the biggest fucking one bursts out of the floor.

Christ, this thing is huge! It takes up half the floor! It doesn't have eyes, its bulbous head is completely covered with tentacles that are easily as thick as a good-sized tree, the nexus point of the tentacles is a mouth filled with teeth like jagged railroad spikes, acid oozes from its rubbery flesh and smokes on the black-glass floor, and judging by the reverent way the cthonians are regarding it, I'd say we're looking at none other than Big Mama.

It throws its "head" back and lets loose the loudest, highest, most piercing shriek I have ever heard and I clamp my hands over my ears, but it does no good. My ears are ringing so loud I can't hear a goddamn thing, so naturally I don't hear the cave walls shatter, nor do I hear the broken rocks hurtling through the air towards us. No, I _sense _them instead, and in just enough time to dive out of their way. Gargantua roars again, and the entire cave starts shaking. We look around, and see more rocks breaking apart from the walls and whizzing through the air towards us. I duck as a basketball-sized one whizzes past my head and shatters on the ground in front of me.

"Alrighty then," I say, "time to go!"

We tear-ass up the path, weaving and bobbing as stone chunks of various sizes slam towards us and break apart like bread crumbs on the ground. I hear Knives call me mentally, and I ask, "What?"

"Look up." I do. I can't see a thing; the fog's blocking it all.

"Look _past_ the fog, you idiot!"

Ah. Night-eyes.

"Yes! Do it!"

I look up again and I can see that we are about to get to the rows of cocoons, and I realize what he means: the walls are lined with the chrysali, which are bunched together on top of each other like grapes, leaving no space between them. To wit: no bare walls, no more rocks.

If we get there, we'll be okay. Or at least in a better position than now.

We're in the fog now. Since I can't see anyway, I close my eyes again and let my "plant sense", as Knives calls it, expand and feel the missiles coming towards us. I sense that Knives has done the same, so he's okay.

That just leaves Meryl. She can't see or hear the stones, assuming her ears are still ringing. And even if she could, she's too terrified and too pumped of adrenalin to notice. I'll have to protect her, also.

Mile after mile, stone after stone, I sense the cocoons ahead, just a few more feet, just a few more, just a few – _SHIT!!!_

I pull my gun out and shoot at the boulder heading towards us. I feel it shatter, but a small chunk keeps flying and before I can even move, hits Meryl in the small of her back.

My eyes pop open as she falls and screams. I kneel beside her and examine her still form. The rock tore a hole in her shirt, but it didn't pierce the skin. That's good – no risk of infection. I gently (but quickly) probe her spine and, feeling no broken bones, check for a pulse. She's alive, but unconscious.

"VASH!" Knives screams. "Come on!"

I scoop Meryl up and keep running. Without warning, a giant scarlet tentacle flops up out of the pit and grabs Knives by the wrist. He screams as I hear crunching and I unload the last of my bullets into the appendage, which shrieks and retracts. I run to my brother, who is cradling his wounded wrist and whimpering. I look closer and see that he has a right to be acting like a whipped puppy: his wrist is mangled almost beyond recognition; the flesh is nearly torn off completely in three separate places, and I can see the crushed bones and torn ligaments dangling and shining in the fog. He rips a piece of my sleeve off, wraps it around the gaping wound, and then takes off again. Gotta say I'm impressed; despite his homicidal outlook on life, he's usually a huge wuss when it comes to pain.

I close my eyes again and see that we're out of the corkscrew. No time to celebrate, though – still gotta find the hole we came in. I sense our trail leading to one in the center of the wall. I turn around and sense Big Daddy Cthonian pulling its ugly bulk out of the pit behind us, so I whip my gun around and pull the trigger.

_Click-click-click-click-click-click_. Shit!

Okey-doke, time to run like a sonofabitch.

I get about halfway to the tunnel when I sense what Knives is doing, and I stop dead in my tracks. I spin around and open my eyes, praying he's not doing what I think he is.

Oh dear God he is.

"_WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?_"

"What does it look like?"

"But –"

"We're out of bullets! This is the only option left!"

"We can still run!"

"It'll only follow us!"

"You don't know if that'll stop it!"

"But it _might_!"

"You'll kill us all!"

"No, I won't"

"Goddamit Knives, don't do this! STOP!"

Too late. His arm is already powered up and he lets loose a blast just as the big worm crawls entirely out of the pit.

Direct hit. _SKRA–THOOOOOOOOOOOM!_

My eyes are immediately seared, but I see the master cthonian sent flying back into from whence it came. I breathe a sigh of relief, but suck it right back in when I see the roof of the cavern crumbling apart and about to fall.

Well, back to the running.

Knives catches up with me as we enter the tunnel and the entrance to the cavern caves in behind us. We veer left, the cavern walls shudder and I realize the whole things comin' down.

We put on an extra burst of speed and Meryl screams in pain in my arms. When did she regain consciousness?

We reach the end of the tunnel and Knives clambers over the top, I hand him Meryl and he takes her and sets her down in a chair as I jump up and something comes together in my mind: I remember the blue color. The cthonian's eyes, the color of the fog, the light from the cocoons; all the same hue. And now I know why I recognized it: it's the exact same color as the energy from our angel arms.

There's no way in hell that's a coincidence.

The tunnel caves in as I crawl out of the hole, and about half of the kitchen wall falls over.

THWOCK!

"What was that?" Meryl asks.

"That," I reply, "would be the sound of a concrete splinter flying through the air and embedding itself in my eye."

Knives spins around and stares in horror and disgust.

"I'm going to crumple to the floor and scream like a wounded kitten now."

And I do.

_1:35 PM___

Meryl's POV

So here we are: Vash pacing around nervously munching on donuts, Knives sitting at the table sullenly nursing his hand (and a scotch), and me lying on the couch with my back screaming in excruciating agony.

Finally I break the silence. "So, what now?" Knives tosses back the last of his drink, then pours himself another. "Not a damn thing."

…

To say that's not the answer I want to hear would be an understatement of biblical proportions. I try to sit up in order to protest, but a white-hot blast of pure, unadulterated PAIN makes me think otherwise. I stick my tongue between my molars and bite down as hard as humanly possible just to keep from screaming, and I feel the flesh part and a trickle of blood seeps into my mouth, but I keep my poker face: I am NOT going to give Knives the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.

"I'm afraid he's right, Meryl."

"_What?!_"

Vash sits down next to his brother and sighs.

"This thing…it's too big. We have _no _idea what we're up against, and even if we did…we're in no shape to fight it. We don't have enough firepower, we don't have enough mobility, and in the shape we're in right now…" he lets the sentence trail off.

"So that's _it_? We're just going to leave Milly at the mercy of those…those _things_?"

"Meryl, we don't even know that Milly's in there –"

"She is!"

"I don't thin-"

"She's in there and YOU KNOW IT!"

"We have no proof-"

"BULLSHIT!"

"Meryl, please let me finish a sentence before you yell at me."

"Fine!"

"Where Milly is, I have no clue. Now, her kidnapping, the incident here this morning, and what we saw in that pit are all connected, I have no doubt of that. But there is no concrete proof that she is being held there."

"But what do you believe, Vash?"

He doesn't respond, but the look on his face is answer enough. I lean my head back against the pillow and use every ounce of willpower I have to keep from crying.

"_YOU FOOLS!!!_"

We spin around to see someone blast into the room, screaming in rage.

It's Mike.

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID _FOOLS!!!_Do you realize what you've DONE?!" He wheels around and grabs Knives by the collar. "_WHAT YOU'VE UNLEASHED?!_" He throws him back into his chair and spins around. "All my WORK for all these CENTURIES…_GONE!!_" He slams his fist into the table and screams.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Vash pipes up, "what's gone? What's unleashed? What have we d-"

"_SHUT UP!!! _Just SHUT UP, you IMBECILE!" He sighs explosively and hangs his head. "I was obviously wrong in turning to you. You've ruined everything…can't stop what has begun…"

"Now, wait a minute, Mike," I chime in. "You _told_ us to go down into the pit."

"But did I tell you to use your fucking _angel arm?! _HMM?!!! _DID I?!_" He looks up again and pure, unbridled fury burns in his eyes. He throws his hand up in the air and snorts derisively, then turns around and heads for the door. "Worthless bastards," he grumbles.

In a split-second Vash rushes past me and jams his hand into the small of Mike's back, and the man in black screams and crumples to the ground.

Silence hangs leaden in the air.

"Vash," I whisper, "what did you _do _to him?"

Without turning around, Vash lifts his fake arm, and I see a bolt of electricity dancing between his thumb and forefinger. "Built-in Taser," he murmurs. Mike groans and tries to move.

"Aw, did you fall down, Mikey? Here, _let me help you up!_" In another lightning-quick second Vash picks him up by the collar, slams him into the wall, and presses his arm-gun against his throat. Finally I see his face, and I almost shrink back.

This is not my husband. This is not the man I love. This is a demon; this is fury personified.

"Now, you listen to me, _Mike_," he growls. "I don't care _who _you are, or _where _you came from, but let me tell you something: I have NOT had a good day. My _wife _was nearly paralyzed, my _brother _might never be able to use his hand again and my _best friend_ is missing, maybe even dead. And to top it all off, there's an army of slimy, tentacled things somewhere out there, and I don't think they want to sell us copies of _The Watchtower_. Now I think you owe us an explanation, and I don't care if you have to _pull it out of your ass_, but you're going to tell us what the _FUCK _is going on, _OR SO HELP ME I'LL-_"

"You'll what, Vash?" Knives shouts, enraged. "Kill him?"

Vash stops.

"After everything you've been taught?"

Silence.

"After all you told _me?_"

Vash stands there for a minute, visibly calmed, then turns around and glances at his livid brother.

"Did I ever say I was gonna kill him?"

His gun leaves Mike's throat, then jams into the one-armed man's groin. "No, I'll do worse. I'll take your best friend, and I won't give a tin shit."

Again, silence fills the room. Mike seems to be considering it. Despite the blatant obscenity of what's going on, it makes me wonder: what secrets are he guarding that would be worth losing his manhood?

"All right. All right, I'll tell you. But please put me down first."

Vash does, and the black-clad man walks over to a chair and sits down, then sighs, deep in thought. Finally, he shakes his head, and looks up at all of us.

"What I'm about to tell you will most likely be very disturbing to you. In fact, you may even be tempted to call me a liar. But I assure you, everything I will say is true."

Vash sits down next to me and the one-armed man begins his story.


	6. Revealations

Longest chapter so far, and I cranked it right out. Must have to do with not being in school anymore. I have noticed I have not put up a disclaimer in the last few chapters, so in the interest of my continuing legal peace, here it is.

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Trigun, Twin Peaks, or the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. I just read a hell of a lot and watch too much weird stuff.

Chapter 6:

Revelations

_1:45 PM___

Knives's POV

"Many billions of years ago," Mike says, "before the beginning of time, this reality was ruled by a race of beings known as the Old Ones. They were immensely powerful, their abilities akin to magic, and eventually they gained the ability to alter the very fabric of time and space. Using these powers, they weaved together the universe as we know it, and took great care that the weave was upheld. But as the saying goes, absolute power corrupts absolutely and after a time a large faction of them began to believe their talents were being wasted with just protecting the balance, and they saw themselves as superior to such 'menial' tasks. Proclaiming themselves the Great Old Ones, this faction abused their powers wildly, with no care for maintaining the natural order. The remaining Old Ones, henceforth the Elder Ones, knew that eventually their former brethren would tug the weave too much, and all would unravel."

"Cut the fucking fairy tale."

"Don't be rude, Knives," Vash says in that infuriatingly sweet tone, "I'm sure Mikey here is going somewhere with this."

"Indeed. The Great Old Ones and the Elder Ones went to war. A great war fought between armies of equal power, shattering much of the cosmos in the process. Finally, after millennia of near-incessant death, the Elder Ones marshaled their forces and launched a final, devastating attack. Most of the Great Old Ones were rendered powerless, unable to take form, doomed to wander forever in an incorporeal state. Those who remained, being the most powerful, were not destroyed but severely weakened and could not escape. The Elder Ones took this opportunity to imprison their enemies into various alternate universes, which were then sealed. An outpost was created, with windows onto almost every prison dimension, and then disguised as a planet in order to fool the wandering ones."

He looks us all in the eye.

"That outpost was the Earth."

Meryl bolts upright and winces.

Vash almost drops his gun.

I bray laughter.

"Shut up, Knives," we say in unison.

I do.

"Continuing on, a wandering one who managed to keep some of his power finally discovered the watchpost and began slowly opening the doors of various prisons. Eventually the guards the Elder Ones had stationed caught up with it and destroyed it, but it had already ripped open enough holes that the imprisoned ones could talk to each other and to the then-developing human race. Most of the holes were only big enough for the Old Ones to speak through, but there was one named Ithaqua whose door was open enough for it to come through and actually possess people. However, Ithaqua was bonded to its cell and could only possess someone for a finite amount of time before it was sucked back into its restraining dimension. Eventually, it figured out a way in which to obtain a permanent host: a person had to come into its dimension by their own volition, and then it could manufacture a doppelganger of them, possess the duplicate and return in that person's place. So in order to achieve its goal, it tried to sway the indigenous folk to is charms, but unfortunately for Ithaqua, the locals wised up to its scheme and assigned it to a clearly unsavory place in their mythology: they saw how it could possess a person and blamed it for acts of cannibalism. They labeled it the Wendigo, its prison the 'Black Lodge', and wrapped clues as to how to avoid it and how to escape it in legends and tales. Supposedly, if a person shows perfect courage in Ithaqua's domain, they would be released into the White Lodge. As to how they came of this knowledge and what exactly the 'White Lodge' is are incredibly unclear, as reports differ considerably. At any rate, Ithaqua was undaunted and continued its periodic controllings for hundreds of years. However, it unknowingly triggered its own downfall in the late twentieth century when it made a man in the small nearby town of Twin Peaks named Palmer murder his own daughter. Laura Palmer's body was found the next day, and the Federal Bureau of Investigation – the precursor to your Bernardelli Insurance Company – sent a man named Cooper to investigate. Ithaqua, masquerading as a man named BOB, observed the oddball agent and decided it had found a perfect host. After nearly two weeks Cooper linked the murder to the father, who promptly killed himself both out of guilt and to make sure BOB could not hurt anyone again, as he had been BOB's periodic host nearly his entire life. Sadly, BOB had a backup plan and used an insane ex-friend of Cooper's in order to lure the agent into the Black Lodge. The plan succeeded, and BOB fled with a new – and, it hoped, permanent – host. However, during their brief encounter, Cooper displayed perfect courage and was transported back to Twin Peaks. He tracked down his false self, and the presence of two identical beings caused enough of a ripple effect to attract the attention of the Elder Ones, who returned to the Earth, shattered BOB's shell, and sent Ithaqua back to the Black Lodge for a temporary basis while they decided what to do about their former comrade."

"Yeah, that's nice, what's it gotta do with us?!"

"I'm getting there, Knives. Since they could not close the door entirely, they decided the Earth was grotesquely inadequate for containing such a destructive force, and built a new portal out in the far reaches of nowhere. They disguised it as a planet as well, and since Ithaqua had mastery over ice, they made it a desert planet. They called it _B'Nhantza_, but you know it as Gunsmoke."

"Oh, this just keeps getting better and better," Meryl groans.

"Oh, it will. I'm sure you two will find this next part incredibly interesting," he says, indicating Vash and I.

"When the watchmen destroyed Ithaqua's BOB incarnation, they failed to destroy it entirely. Most of the energy flew away and created a tangent universe, which the Elder Ones failed to notice because it sealed itself off from the rest of existence before it could be detected. Over a century later, during the last days of Earth's final war, a science team was testing a rudimentary matter transporter in hopes of turning the tides of the war. Instead of sending an object from point A to point B, however, they opened a door to the energy dimension."

"Okay," Vash says, "I think you just broke my head."

"Put it back together, then, because this concerns you. Rather than destroying the complex, the energy absorbed it instead. Now, since the complex was located beneath a wildlife preserve, the energy absorbed it as well, most notably the plant life. All was fused into a single entity, which was eventually discovered by the war-devastated human race. They analyzed it, and discovered it was the greatest source of power they had ever seen. Unbeknownst to them, however–"

"I think I know where this is going," I say.

"Oh, really?" Mike replies, clearly miffed. "In that case please enlighten us."

"The entities were the first Plants, weren't they?"

Mike doesn't reply.

"Weren't they, you bastard?"

"Yes."

"God, you humans amaze me." My voice steadily climbs. "You discover a new race of beings and you immediately exploit them. You never tried to comprehend them, or understand their sentience, or _anything_, never once did you consider their feelings over their enslavement or their –"

"That's enough, Knives!" Vash shouts. "Let him finish."

"Thank you. The introduction of the Plants was a boon to humanity, and gave rise to an era of peace and prosperity. But, all good things must come to an end, and after two millennia of this Golden Age, mankind eventually discovered that their planet was in its death throes. Reports are sketchy at best, but apparently, the use of the Plants had caused the magnetic field of the Earth to deteriorate beyond the point of no return. So, Project SEEDS was formed, and they took the Plants with them.

"Thousands of ships were launched, and were sent in eight separate clusters. I don't know what happened to the other seven, but Ithaqua sensed one in his general vicinity. Well, to be precise, he sensed the presence of his own power, and sent his essence to investigate. What he discovered was a Plant in the process of conceiving offspring. A plan formed in his mind, and he…" he trails off. "There's no easy way to say this. He _raped _the Plant. In the midst of this violation, the Plant fought back and he returned to his prison. Sadly, he had already sent events in motion. You see, the Elder Ones had placed a seal on his prison that could only be opened by his own power. His idea was that his child would seek him out and, using power similar enough to his, release him from his incarceration. Normally, Plants only reproduce one offspring, but four months later, the Plant gave birth to _two_ children. One was the Plant's true child, the other…" he trails off again, and glances at me. "And since that eighth SEEDS cluster landed here, on Ithaqua's prison, I believe his plan worked."

Silence hangs heavy in the room as we digest this new information. Every fiber of my being wants to say no, to call Mike a liar, to deny the whole thing. But in the pit of my soul I know everything he said makes sense. Our power. My nightmares. My bloodlust.

And if it's all true, then this goes far deeper than I could have ever imagined. And it's far worse than I ever dared dream.

"So…" Vash stammers, "so where do you fit in all this?"

He chuckles. "I've exposed your secrets, I suppose it's only fair I share mine. My full name is Philip Michael Gerard. Once, on Earth, I was what you would call a warlock. I summoned spirits from the dead, and one day I was run out of my town; they believed I was consorting with Satan. In a way, they would be proven right. I settled in Twin Peaks, just after it was founded, and continued my work in secret. In solitude I got more and more adept at my craft and one day I summoned Ithaqua. I did not know what he truly was; I merely believed him to be another deceased spirit. I did, however, sense great power in him, and decided to make him my familiar." He chuckles again, bitterly this time. "I allowed him into my body, foolishly believing I could contain him. Shortly thereafter, he revealed himself for what he truly was and began to take control of me. I fought him with all my strength, but it was like trying to swim up a waterfall. Finally, in a frantic last-ditch effort, I cut off my arm; I had read that a bodily sacrifice was the only sure-fire way to rid your body of demonic possession and at that point I was willing to try anything. After that, he was gone, and I believed that it worked. However, he used the severed arm to create a body for himself, and he named that form BOB.

"It drove me almost insane with guilt, the knowledge that I had unleashed this evil upon the world, and I turned to drugs in order to forget. When Laura Palmer died, I immediately knew who the culprit was, but I was too scared, ashamed, and addled with drugs to do anything about it directly. I tried to help Cooper, but in the end I didn't do much good. When the Elder Ones returned and destroyed BOB, I realized I had to get over myself and do something about it myself. I took it upon myself to make sure that Ithaqua would never escape again. I slowly rebuilt my own powers, and through a long and draining spiritual process I managed to transport myself here mind, body and soul. I've spent the last few thousand years preventing Ithaqua's escape." He pauses. "And that's my personal story."

"What about that pit?" Meryl pipes up. "And what, exactly, are the cthonians?"

"That pit you were in was the corporeal exit point of Ithaqua's prison. Although he cannot escape physically, he can send out his spirit for limited amounts of time, which is how he impregnated the Plant. He has been gathering forces from across the cosmos, which wait on their own inside the pit for their master's release. You saw them in their cocoons, I believe. The cthonians are the indigenous race of this planet, as well as the ancestors of the sandworms. They have a hive mentality, and since Ithaqua gained control of their "queen", Shudde-Mell, he controls them as well."

"Some guardian you are!" Meryl screams. "Why the hell haven't you done anything to prevent all that?"

"I don't have enough power, and I can't do anything without gaining too much attention. Besides, the only way Ithaqua to be fully released is by his own power, or by that of his son."

"Is that why he had Milly kidnapped?" I ask. "As bait?"

"Yes. He believed you would attempt a rescue and in so doing, release him. That's why I sent you three into the pit: to get an idea of what you're up against so you wouldn't just charge blindly in. Unfortunately for all of us, by using your angel arm, you unleashed an enormous amount of energy, which I believe is just enough to break the seal."

Silence reigns once again. Vash looks over to me, apparently in a state of shock. The headache I've had all day seems to have just gotten much worse, and one thing circles in my mind: my last-ditch gambit may have doomed us all.

Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, flat stone. "All that's left is for me to ascertain who his son is." He turns the stone around and shows us the glyph on the back: a crude pentagram with rounded corners and a stylized leaf in the middle.

Something about it makes me uneasy. Very much so. As a matter of fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say I was scared of it. But why? It's a stupid star, and a badly drawn one at that.

He shows it to Vash, who cocks his head to one side quizzically. "What is that?"

"An Elder Sign. It is a reproduction of the glyph that seals all of their prisons. No Great Old One or its spawn can look upon it without a violent reaction."

He shows it again to me, and the feeling grows. I try to look away, but for some reason, my eyes are instinctively drawn to it. And the more I look, the more my fear grows.

"Put it away." He does nothing. "I said PUT IT AWAY, GODAMMIT!"

He places the stone on the table. "Just as I suspected." He looks up at Vash. "You might need this. I have no further use for it."

Vash looks at the stone, then at me. Though he doesn't think anything at me, I can see the shock in his eyes.

"Can I go now?" Mike asks. "I have some things to do before the world ends."

"Yeah," Vash murmurs, clearly not really hearing him, and the one-armed man gets up and heads for the door.

"One final question," Vash says.

Mike turns around. "What?"

"What's up with that weird little black cat that pops up wherever we go?"

Mike thinks for a minute. "I'm afraid that cat's something I _can't_ explain." Then he leaves, leaving us to mull over everything we've just learned.

_4:28 PM___

Meryl's POV

I hear the front door open and close, and Vash walks in the room with a slightly worried expression on his face.

"How did it go? Did you and Knives talk?" I ask.

"No. No, we didn't."

"Oh."

"Yeah." He shakes his head sadly. "I'm worried about him, Meryl. I've never seen him this depressed before."

"I guess so. I mean, if I was told that my father was a supremely evil demigod and that I may have killed us all, I'd be bummed, too."

He chuckles. "Never thought I'd see the day when you'd stand up for him."

"I am _not _standing up for him. I only said he has a right to his depression."

He smiles. "Whatever you say, honey. Whatever you say."

"So where is he?"

"He went home. Said he thought working in his garden would help him get his mind around everything we learned."

He looks at me. "So, did the nap help your back at all?"

"Couldn't sleep. Things kept buzzing around in my head."

"Same here."

"Do you think everything Mike said is true?"

"Yes. I can sense it when people lie, and I didn't…" he pauses. "He was telling the truth, Meryl."

I sigh heavily. "That's what I was afraid of." I look him in the eye. "Vash, what are we going to do?"

He looks down. "I don't know, Meryl. I honestly just don't know. And in truth, everything hasn't really sunk in for me yet."

"I know what you mean. It's too big, too deep."

"Yeah."

Silence falls.

"Are you comfortable, Meryl? Do you need me to get you anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

He smiles sadly. "Remember when I said I can sense a fib?"

"Sorry. But at least the pain's down to a dull throb now."

He thinks for a minute, then says, "I think I know how to make it better."

I chuckle. "Are you going to kiss it?"

"No, but I can do that too, if you want."

I smile. "Well, what do you have in mind?"

"An old trick."

"I'll try anything."

He slowly picks me up and takes me to the bedroom. He gently sets me face down on the bed and takes the pillow out from under me, laying my head flat against the mattress. He unbuttons my torn blouse, and I feel his hands examine my wounded back. He unhooks my bra and raises me up ever so slightly to take both garments off.****

"What are you thinking of doing?"

"A special type of chiropractic massage a doctor friend of mine taught me years ago. It's supposed to heal bruised muscles."

"Oh."

His fingertips gently brush the back of my neck. "Now just relax."

I nod and close my eyes. I hear him open the bedside drawer and take something out, then place whatever it is on the table and close the drawer. He spreads something gooey over the afflicted area of my back, and a bittersweet scent fills the air. Then he begins working and plunges me into an intense netherworld where pain and pleasure meet, tangle, and become inseparable. My rational mind leaves completely, time loses all meaning and I surrender to the fervent waves of exquisite agony that emanate from Vash's strong, skilled hands. The luxurious torment washes over me again and again, and my back burns and freezes and burns and freezes over and over.

After a limited eternity, he stops and I suddenly realize I'm gasping for air as though I were drowning.

I open my eyes, and for a minute I panic and think I'm blind. Then my eyes focus and the momentary surge passes. Then I realize something else: the pain in my back is gone. Ever so slowly, I turn over on my side and my back doesn't complain. I flip all the way over and see him sitting on the edge of the bed. I cautiously sit up and poke at my lower back. No pain.

I smile. "You are a miracle worker."

"Nah. I just know a few tricks."

He nods at the bedside table and I see an open jar of some sort of milky-white jelly.

"It helps to heal bruised and strained muscles. The guy who taught me that massage invented it as well."

"Sounds like he was quite a smart cookie."

"Yeah. Best in the business. Taught me a lot." He chuckles fondly. "Ol' Dr. Gaye. Good ol Dr. Benjamin Gaye."

I slide over next to him and take his hand in mine as I rest my head on his shoulder. I feel his head rest against mine, and I close my eyes and smile. The fact that I'm still bare-chested never even crosses my mind – hell, he's seen more of me. I concentrate on this feeling, and I clear my mind of everything else. And for the next twenty minutes, there aren't any Elder Ones or Great Old Ones or cthonians and Milly's not missing and Knives isn't a hellspawn and all there is si just Vash and I.

Finally I hear him whisper, "I should go check on Knives."

"Okay, but I'm coming with."

"What? Why?"

"Don't know. Just feel like I need to. Woman's intuition, I guess."

"All right."

We get up and he hands me my bra. I get another blouse out of the dresser and put it on; the cloth sticks to my still-gelled back. I look at my torn one lying on the back of the chair and feel a slight twinge of regret: once a good article of clothing, now going to be a rag. I follow Vash out to the jeep and get in. As we drive off I wonder why I'm so uneasy all of a sudden.

_5:36 PM___

Knives isn't in his garden. It shows signs of work, though, and I see foot- and kneeprints in the dirt, so he was here at least. The footprints lead back into the house, and his car's still in the driveway. Probably just went inside for a nap, is all.

So stop being so goddamn nervous, Meryl.

We walk up the steps to the front porch, and Vash unlocks the door. All is silent in the house, except for the sound of a dripping faucet coming from the back room.

Wait a sec…that doesn't sound like water. No, it's too heavy; it sounds more like…like -

Oh dear God.

I look at Vash; he's had the same idea. We rush into the back room and stop dead in our tracks at what we find.

Mike is hanging upside-down on the wall, held up by roofing nails through his feet, hand, and forehead. His throat, wrist, and stomach are slashed open, and blood has trickled down the wall and pooled on the floor. His glistening entrails are looped around his head like a grotesque turban.

In the corner sits Knives, huddled up in a fetal position, terrified, blood-soaked and gripping the chainsaw with his wounded hand. He rocks back and forth and chanting a single word over and over in a harsh whisper:

"Ithaqua. Ithaqua. Ithaqua."


	7. Possession

Sorry that took so long; originally this and Chapter 8 were all one chapter, but I cut it in half for length reasons. Ch.8 should be up sometime in the next week, unless Comcast decides to revoke my internet access for no good reason (again).

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Trigun, Twin Peaks, or the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. I just inform others of the Great Old Ones so that their unchaining may be hastened. J

Chapter 7: Possession

Knives' POV

_where am I _

_why is it so dark _

_why can't I see anything_

_why is it so cold_

_so cold so cold so c o l d_

_I'm numb I can't feel anything_

_my hands my legs my head all is numb_

_wait I see light_

_gotta get to it where there's light there's warmth rem said so _

_she was never wrong_

_no never_

_I'm getting closer it's getting brighter and warmer and_

_I can feel again so cold let me in to the light_

_it's all coming from a person_

_who is it I can't see it's too bright_

_no no I can see it's_

_it's_

_…Milly?_

_- _Knives?

_Milly is that really you_

_­_- Yes. Of course it is. How did you get here?

_I don't know but where am I_

- You're with me.

_where are we_

- I don't know.

_you don't?_

- No.

_we're nowhere_

- That's not true, Knives.

_what?_

- There's no such thing as nowhere

_there isn't?_

- No.

_but…but why not?_

- Because everything has to be somewhere.

_please help me _

- What?

_help me_

- Knives, you're fading.

_no no milly please_

- Knives?

_please don't go_

- I can't hear you

_Milly_

- …

_Milly?_

- …

_no no please no_

_Milly please come back_

_come back please bring back the light_

_bring back the warmth_

_please…_

_please…no…_

_…no…_

- **Hello. **

_no no no no oh dear god no_

_not you not you oh dear god please_

_NOT YOU_

_­_- **Yes, it's me.**

_no not again never again I'm done _

**- You're never done, Knives**

_yes I am I'm done I'm never following you again do you hear me NEVER _

**- Ha, ha, ha, ha. You always could make me laugh.**

_it's true I don't have to do what you tell me anymore _

**- You stupid boy. Do you honestly think that you can escape me? That you can escape your birthright?**

_it's NOT my birthright you bastard you murdering motherfucking BASTARD_

**- What a foul mouth. I simply can't have you talk like that. Especially not to me.**

_where's Milly what have you done to her bring her back_

_- _**Don't worry about her. She's safe. I'd be more worried about you.**

_ha what do you think you can do to me_

**- I can do plenty**

_no you can't I'm not under your control anymore_

**- Oh, but you are. You've just wandered away for a little while. But, I can fix that. **

_you come any closer and I will-_

**- Stupid. **

_NYEEEEEEEAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH MY HAND OH JESUS MY HAND_

**- How about now, you disrespectful little whelp?**

_nh nh nuh NO NEVER AGAIN_

**- As you wish.**

_EEEEEYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH_

**- Come to your senses yet?**

_nrg nooo no I am not your puppet I am not an animal I AM A MAN_

**- So be it…_man._**

_AAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGHHH PLEASE MAKE IT STOP_

**- Ah, but you LIKE the pain, don't you, you piece of shit.**

_sob gnf nh sob nh-nuh-no-ho-ho-huh-hoooooo_

**- SHUT UP! You know I can rip that insolent little mouth right off your face, don't you?**

_hk huh kaff kaff yes hk_

**- What was that?**

_YES_

**- So you have come to see the truth yet?**

_NEVER _

**- Sigh…very well. I can see you need some time to think. **

_--knives--_

**- But in the meanwhile–**

_--knives--_

**- your hand–**

_--knives--_

**- now belongs to–**

**------------**

_October 29, __6:23 PM_

"…me."

"What?"

"I said I think he can hear me."

"Are you sure, Vash?"

"Let me try one more time. KNIVES!"

My eyes blast open the darkness immediately vanishes.

"Knives, it's okay! It's okay! You're safe!"

I look around. I'm not in my house. I'm in the bed in Vash's guest room.

"Where…where am I? What happened?"

"We found you in your house and when you saw us you fainted. We brought you back to our place."

I try to lift my wounded hand, but I can't. I try again, but nothing happens. Again I lift, but still nothing happens. I look at Vash and mentally ask him why I can't move.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he pulls the covers back about to my waist and I look down.

I'm strapped to the bed.

My puzzlement increases tenfold and again I look to my brother.

"I'm sorry, Knives, but we had to," Vash says, genuine sadness in his unhurt eye.

"But…but…"

"Well, Knives," Meryl says, "when you chainsaw a man open, wrap his guts around his head and crucify him upside-down, you aren't going to exactly receive star treatment."

"_What?_"

"Mike. You killed him. No, I take that back; you _butchered_ him."

"No…"

"He was trying to _help_ us, you miserable bastard! Why did you kill him? Was it because you didn't like what he _told_ you?"

She grabs me by the throat and forces my eyes to meet hers.

"Well, if I had any doubts before about what he said, what you just did _proves_ it. You _are_ a fucking hellspawn."

"But I didn't-"

"_LIAR!_"

"I did no such thing!" Anger creeps into my voice.

"Do you honestly expect us to _believe_ that? We _saw_ you! The chainsaw was _in your hand! _His blood was _all over you!_"

"I know that, BUT _I _DIDN"T DO IT!" I roar into her face. She shrinks back, either at my voice or at the fury in my eyes. It takes effort, but I calm myself. "What I mean is that _I _wasn't in control of my body when I did it. Something else was." She looks at me dubiously. "Goddamit woman, don't you understand?! There's someone in my head _but it's not ME!_"

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Now you're copping the 'devil-made-me-do-it' plea? Or for you is it 'my-dad-made-me-do-it'? For the love of God, Knives…"

"He's telling the truth, Meryl."

Vash's voice is quiet and unobtrusive, but it quiets the raging woman instantly.

"What did you just say?"

"He's telling the truth."

Meryl stops, the anger leaving her face. She believes him. She believes _me_.

And then the anger returns anew, so fast that you could barely tell it was gone.

"Well, then, I guess there's no reason why we shouldn't tell him, is there?"

"Tell me what?"

Vash turns his head so that his remaining eye faces me, and I see uncertainty in it.

"Knives…there's, uh…there's something you should know."

He unstraps my wounded hand. I lift it and stretch, and it dawns on me that it's unusually heavy. I look at it and I feel my entire body go cold.

My hand has disappeared. In its place is a large, misshapen knob of flesh and bone from which protrudes the steel blade of the chainsaw.

"What…how…"

"Well, Knives," Meryl says, "first of all, you had a death grip on the saw and we didn't want to get it out by force for risk of hurting your arm even more. Then, about three minutes ago, about half a dozen tentacles burst out of your mangled flesh and wrapped themselves around the saw. A few seconds later, another wave of blood-soaked ungues popped out and a few seconds later they somehow all grew together. And the results are plain to see."

I look at my mutated limb in shock. Then I look up to the sky. I know who did this.

"You bastard," I croak out. "Oh, you dirty…_bastard! _Give me back my hand! GIVE ME BACK MY HAND!"

-----------------

Vash's POV

_6:34 PM_

All the lights are off, and the dwindling daylight peeking in through the gap in the curtains elongates the shadows to grotesque proportions. Knives sits upright in the bed in a fetal position, chin resting on knees, deeply lost in thought. He said he needed to tell me something – me and me alone, so Meryl left the room and I unstrapped him. I was about to ask him why he's telling me this vocally rather than mentally when the reason hit me: by giving voice to whatever this was, he was convincing himself as well as me.

Vis a vis, it's gotta be really big.

Finally he looks up and his eyes lock onto mine.

"I loved her, Vash. I loved Rem."

"I know, Knives. I did too."

"No." He shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. "No, you loved her as a mother. I…I loved her…" He looks down.

"I loved _her_. As a person. The same way you love Meryl."

"You…oh my god…" I suddenly feel the bottom my heart drop out and I shake my head as this latest revelation sinks in fully.

"I know. I never told you. Hell, I never told _myself_. I was too afraid."

"Afraid?"

"Yes. I was afraid. I don't know why, but the mere idea of telling her how I felt would fill me with unexplainable dread. No, I knew actions spoke louder than words, and I vowed to do something that would make her love me back. I would stay up at night and make up ways about how I would profess my love through my deeds, each one more improbable than the last, and I began to despair about how I would ever do what my heart so fervently told me. Then came that day in the hydroponics bay. The day the butterfly was in the spider's web"

He looks up again.

"When I saw the spider closing down on the defenseless beauty I knew my time had come. To me, I could do something that was simple, yet heroic enough to let her know I loved beauty, and that I loved her. Well, you know how that played out."

He chuckles humorlessly.

"I expected her to congratulate me, but when she took your side I felt as though the world had ended. When she took your side I knew she would never love me, _truly_ love me.

"I ran back to my quarters, and on the way I ran into Steve, who proceeded to wail on me and call me a worthless freak. Finally, I made it back to my quarters, flopped down on the bed and cried my broken heart out. I cried and cried and cried and…and I guess I cried myself to sleep, because what happened next I thought to be a dream.

"I heard a voice ask me what was wrong. I looked up, and there was a man standing in the middle of the room. He was tall, had long grey hair, and wore a t-shirt and jeans. I remember those clothes because I thought that it was kind of weird, that he wasn't wearing a SEEDS jumpsuit like everyone else. He had a very kind voice, and his laugh was like music; his whole demeanor was fatherly. He asked me again what was wrong, and I told him that nobody loved me, and he laughed. He sat down on the bed next to me, and I asked him who he was. He said his name was Bob, and that he was going to be my friend, if that was okay with me. Needless to say, at that point I was very happy to just have someone to talk to and I said okay. I told him about my problems, and he said he could help me; after all, isn't that what friends were for? He said he could make me and my powers stronger, all he needed to do was get in my head and tweak things a bit – the only caveat was, he would be in control. Keep in mind, I was desperate at this time, so naturally, I gave him the go-ahead. I let him in and sold my fucking soul."

I have a feeling I knew where this was going.

"He started controlling me and my mental powers very subtly. It started out innocently enough; tripping people with my mind, making Rowan forget where he put his glasses – you know, silly things. It was kinda amusing, seeing myself doing these things, but unable to do anything about it. Almost like an out-of-body experience, actually.

"Then, one day, the kid gloves came off completely. He popped up and asked me if I would like it if Steve was gone forever. I agreed. All of a sudden, I couldn't move, couldn't see, couldn't make a sound, couldn't even think. All I could do was _feel_. I felt my entire body go freezing cold in a second; felt my eyes boil in my head; felt sharp, hard fingers dig into my brain and _squeeeeeeeze_. Then my eyes opened again, and I saw myself walking down the hall and stopping at the door to Mary and Rowan's room. I saw myself looking inside and telling the two that I had a plan for getting rid of Steve. I heard myself telling her to say he raped her. Only it wasn't _me_ doing any of these things: it was Bob.

"When Steve was on trial, I felt Bob using my mental powers to convince Captain Joey that Steve was guilty. Later, I felt him using them to make Rowan kill Steve and Mary. Finally, I…I saw him make me kill Joey and program the ships to crash. When the escape pod doors closed and Rem told you to take care of me, I screamed at Bob. I railed against him in my mind as I saw him making me laugh. I pummeled him mentally when I saw myself beating you up. And finally I laughed when I saw the other ships landing safely. And then he plunged me into the greatest amount of pain anyone can be in and still survive. It felt as though every bone in my body was being crushed, my every internal organ pierced and lit on fire, every inch of my flesh ripped open and violated. Finally, my mind blacked out. When I woke up, we were on _this_ desolate wreck of a planet, walking across the desert away from the ship.

"For the next few years, not much happened. When Bob realized he could not utilize my plant power directly, he had me return to the ship and gave me back control of my body – but only if I found a way to gain access to my inherent power. Otherwise, he'd torture me again the same way he did that day on the escape pod. I wanted to tell you everything, but eventually I realized I had no choice in the matter. So, over the course of a year, I made our guns.

"And, over the course of that year, something snapped in my mind. The humans have a name for it: Stockholm syndrome, wherein a hostage begins to identify with and grow sympathetic to his captor. By the end of that year, I to view what he wanted me to do as a noble quest. But I misinterpreted his mission: he said he needed me to set free our power, which I took to mean free all the plants."

He looks up at me again.

"You're probably wondering how I arrived from that to killing all humans. I figured, Rem didn't love me, Steve hated me, Rowan, Mary and Joey just sort of ignored me, and since they were the only humans I really knew, they represented their entire race. Therefore, no humans cared about me, and they could all just die as far as I cared. And when they were all out of the way, I could free our brethren and create a new Eden. Well, my shattered little mind kept remembering that day with the spider, when this whole ordeal started, and wove that into my 'holy mission'. And I guess Bob, or Ithaqua as I understand is his true name, was content in what he had wrought, as I never felt him in my mind after that. Until today, that is."

He chuckles blackly again.

"Well, I went about my mission, even after you shot me and blew up July in the process. But every night I had the same dream: I'd be standing in a room with red curtains, and Rem would be sitting in front of me. She's crying, and I'd tell her she isn't real. I'd pull out my gun and shoot her, and then I would wake up. Every night, for over a hundred years, I had this dream. Until that epic little gunfight we had last year. Since then, I haven't had it. At first I wasn't sure why, but finally I figured it out."

He smiles; the first genuine smile I've seen him wear in a very, very long time.

"It was Milly. She's so much like Rem, Vash. She's so kind and pure and gentle and fearless and smart." He laughs; again, genuinely. "Oh, God, her intellect. It amazed me, when I realized how bright she really is. She's so much smarter than she lets on."

I smile and nod. She is that, all right.

His smile disappears. "Being around her reminded me of the life I led back on the ship. I had a lot of time to think, and eventually I began thinking of Rem. The more I thought about her, the more I thought of the life I'd been living as a murderer, and eventually I realized I was killing people just because of Steve's hatred and Bob's lies. Finally I decided those two didn't deserve the recognition I was giving them by living the life I was living, and I decided to stop, to start over again with a clean slate.

"I discovered all that just because of Milly. Just because of her care for me. And I honestly thought my dark days were behind me, But now…" he looks down at the twisted, fleshy saw that protrudes from his wrist. "Now, Bob's come back and I honestly don't know if I can hold him off for much longer. So if…if I start to lose control again, Vash, please do one thing for me."

He looks up at me.

"Kill me."

I feel my entire body go cold and my heart drops into my stomach. Did…did he just say what I _think_ he did?

"I don't want you to be hurt, Vash. But you're going to have to promise me you'll kill me if I lose it again."

I shake my head. "Knives, I…I can't."

"Please, Vash. For me. For everyone."

He looks up at me again, and intense sadness burns in his eyes. His remaining hand finds mine and squeezes it. I shut my unhurt eye and I feel hot tears pour from it and course down my cheek.

"Please," he whispers.

Very reluctantly, I nod my head.

He smiles sadly. "Thank you." He lets go of my hand and lays back down. "I think I need to rest now. Sleep is the only time I'm truly safe from him."

I nod mutely, stand up, and walk to the door. I grip the doorknob and turn around, and in the last rays of the sun I can see my brother lying on his back, asleep already. Yeah, he was tired. And why shouldn't he be? Aside from everything he's been through today, he just completely poured his secret heart out to me.

I open the door and step out into the hallway. Next to the door, I see Meryl standing there, her hands clamped over her mouth and tears brimming in her eyes. I don't need to ask why: I know she heard everything. But I'm not mad at her for eavesdropping; I know she doesn't blame him now. I lay my hand on her shoulder, and we walk into the kitchen as the suns dip down over the horizon and the second moon rises.


	8. Routine

Sorry for the wait. This chapter (which was originally one with ch. 7) has been done for a while, but my family and I are summering in Mexico, and the hotel only has dial-up. For a price. So the next couple of chapters may be a little late getting up, but I'm gonna try to get this fic done by the time we go back home – July 26. I have a definite idea where this is going, and hopefully I can get this done within the next few weeks (crossing my fingers!)

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Trigun, Twin Peaks, or the Cthulhu Mythos of H.P. Lovecraft. I just provide entertainment of my own.

Chapter 8: Routines

Vash

_I've been flying for along time and my wings are getting tired. I want to set myself down and rest, but there's nowhere to do that. Only desert, as far as the eye can see. And I see spiders everywhere; if I fall into a web they'll eat me._

_Wait…no, I see something else ahead. I fly toward it and enter a forest._

_This place – it's beautiful! So lush and rich and full of life. And there are no spiders, except one that I know._

_And there she is._

_I alight on her web and my legs immediately stick to it, but I'm not afraid; I know she won't eat me or kill me or anything like that. She crawls down the web and skitters up to me._

_"Hello, Vash," she says._

_"Hello, Meryl."_

_"Planning on staying a while?"_

_"Planning on staying forever, actually."_

_She smiles and playfully rubs my left wing with her nearest leg._

_"I guess I can make accommodations. But what about you?"_

_I smile and wink._

_My wings retract into my back and are replaced by an extra pair of legs as my body fattens. My antennae thicken and become mandibles, and my eyes shrink and multiply._

_I smile again. "They won't recognize me now." _

_She looks at me concernedly._

_"But won't you miss your wings?"_

_"I'd rather crawl here with you than fly alone."_

_She smiles and skitters up next to me._

_"Sounds like a good deal," she murmurs._

_We sit there in the sunlight with the sounds of nature all around us._

_" Help me!"_

_I recognize the voice and look up. Knives is stuck in a web. His little legs flail uselessly as he tries to disentangle himself from the web._

_"Help me! Help me! Please! Helllllllllllp meeeeeeeee!"_

_"Don't move, Knives. I'll get you out!"_

_Another spider comes down the web, looking at Knives with hunger and hatred in its eyes._

_It's Steve._

_"What are you doing here? You don't belong here, you stupid freak! Get out of here!" A stream of invective pours out of his mandibled jaws as he skitters closer._

_Knives panics, getting more and more tangled as he flails about, trying desperately to get away from the monster bearing down on him. Although I'm running as fast as I can, I know he'll get to Knives before I do. Then Knives stops flailing and his eyes begin to glow._

_Everything stops and grows silent, and I watch in horror as my brother begins to morph into something else. His wings shrink and blacken, his body fattens and turns green, and his eyes turn bright red._

_He's turned into a locust. He rips out of the web and charges Steve, biting the spider's head off._

_Suddenly, in the distance, I hear a buzzing noise. The noise grows louder, a cloud moves in front of the sun, and all is plunged into darkness._

_Then, with a sudden rush of pure, unbridled fear that paralyzes me, I realize that the darkness is _alive.

_Millions upon millions of locusts rain down upon the fertile valley. They consume everything, and in the blink of an eye my new Eden has been reduced to nothing. I hear Meryl scream behind me, and I spin around just in time to see her being ripped to shreds. I hear laughter and turn around._

_Knives towers over everything, a giant, demonic locust with screaming faces protruding from his pale belly._

_"This is but a glimpse, my dear brother. There is no room in my new world for traitors."_

_The twig I am standing on gives way and I fall into primal blackness, Knives' laughter following me._

-----------------

_October 30, 4:23 AM_

I bolt upright and scream.

Beside me, Meryl stirs.

"Vash?" she says, half-asleep. "Whuzz wrong?"

"Nothing. Just a dream."

"Uhkay. 'Fraid it wuz somethin' els…" she falls asleep before she can finish her thought.

I lay back down and try to get my breathing under control. God, what a nightmare.

After calling Bernardelli and setting up a time for them to come take a look at our house, we'd spent the rest of the previous night pretty much in silence, both of us trying to understand everything we'd learned that day. I have to admit, Mike's story didn't really hit me until I heard Knives' confession. Beforehand, it all seemed fairly distant: ancient gods, possessions, demon planets – all big, but none seeming all that connected with me. But after my brother poured his heart out to me, it became infinitely more personal.

When Meryl and I had gone to bed, she started crying. I didn't need to ask why, or even read her mind; I knew that the enormity of everything had finally hit her, and it hit hard. I wanted to say something, something that would make her fell better, but I knew nothing could do that. All I could do was hold her. And eventually her sobs abated, and we laid in silence again. Finally, she broke it.

"Vash, what are we going to do?"

I'd thought long and hard about that, and I told her the truth: "I don't think we can do anything. This is just too big. I think we should just go on with our lives and do the best we can while we still have the time."

She looked down, tears welling in her eyes again.

I leaned closer and kissed her softly. When we parted, I whispered in her ear, "But I promise you one thing: no matter what happens, I'll be here for you. If everything Mike feared comes to pass and Ithaqua or Bob or whatever his name is awakens and lays waste to the whole universe, I'll still be right here by your side." I smiled. "My little mayfly."

No matter how desperate things get, I can always count on my little pet name to bring a smile to her face. Sure it's cheesy and silly, but that's all part of it, I think. She laid her head on my chest and I wrapped my good arm protectively around her waist. She said once she felt safe there, listening to my heartbeat, and eventually I heard her breathing slow and her grip on my hand relaxed as she fell asleep.

For me, though, sleep was a long time in coming.

And now I'm not sure I can go back to sleep again.

I look down at her. Her brow's creased and her mouth's twitching; she looks sad, like she might start crying again in her sleep. I don't need to use our psychic link to know what's bothering her most of all; I just know.

Milly.

Dear God, what are we going to do about Milly? We can't just leave her out there, down in that damned pit. But I honestly don't know if we'll be able to get past all those cthonians. Knives could help with them, but there's the risk of Ithaqua reading his mind and countering our rescue attempt. And the only person that could help him keep his mind steady enough to counteract his evil dad is Milly. Ah, Catch-22, my old nemesis; we meet again.

I roll over on my side and try to go to sleep, but I'm too wound up and too bummed out. After about an hour of trying, I decide I'm up for the day. Very slowly so as not to wake Meryl, I slip out of bed and put my robe on. I walk into the bathroom, flip the light on, and gently remove the padding on my injured eye.

It's healing; not very fast, but it's healing. I think it should be back to normal in about two weeks. As I redress it with a new gauze pad I wonder how I'm going to explain it to the guys at the bank. Hell, for that matter, what are we going to tell Bernardelli about the kitchen and the living room?

For the first time in over a year, I find myself missing Wolfwood, and missing him badly. God, I wish he was still here right now. He'd have something pithy to say, or point out something we hadn't seen yet, or…hell, just standing there, smoking one of his ever-bent cigarettes would be enough. I-

-no. To live in the past is to die in the present. It took me a long time to learn that, but that's a rule I live by these days.

I leave the bathroom and switch off the light. Might as well check on Knives.

Meryl

_5:38 AM_

I wake up and reach over to Vash, but my hand finds cold bedsheets instead. That in and of itself is enough to snap me out of the clouds of sleepiness: Vash _never _gets up before me – hell, some mornings I have to quite literally drag him out of bed – and the coldness of the sheets means he's been up for a while.

I look at the clock: it's still early, so he hasn't gone to work yet. I get up, throw a robe on, and look in the bathroom. Not there. I go to the kitchen, not there either. I look all over the house, finally stopping in Knives' room. The room's pitch-black, but I don't think he's in here either. Okay, gettin' kinda scared now. I turn around and scream his name.

"I'm right here, Meryl."

I jump up in surprise when I hear his voice right next to me.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

He looks up, and in the dim half-light cast by the open door, I can see tears in his remaining eye.

"Vash, what's wrong?"

He doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches up and flicks the light switch.

My eyes burn for a second in the sudden, harsh light, and then they alight on the bed and widen.

Knives is gone. What's more, the window's open.

"I had a nightmare about an hour ago and couldn't go back to sleep. Came in here a few minutes later to check on him. Couldn't sense him, but I didn't take any notice of that. I can't sense him when he's asleep; our power's linked directly to the conscious mind. Walked in the room, sat down on the bed, and I…I saw."

I feel fear spreading icy tendrils all through my body and my hand goes to my throat. He can't have been taken over again just like that. Not Knives. Not the lunatic who was made to kill untold amounts of people before he started doing it on his own. Not the bastard who made Vash's life so miserable for so long. Not the fucker who looked at me with such pure, undiluted hate in his eyes for so long. Not the man who Milly healed, both in body and soul.

"No," Vash says, reading my mind. "No, he hasn't been taken again. I found this," handing me a slip of paper. On it, in Knives' clear, precise handwriting, is:

THINK I KNOW WHAT TO DO. WENT TO GET SOMETHING. BACK SOON. DON'T WORRY. –K

I look up at Vash dubiously. "And how do you know this isn't just a load of bullshit his daddy cooked up the second he came in?"

"Two ways: One," he says, holding up a finger, "if he were possessed, do you think he would have taken the time to _write a letter _saying he'd be back – rather than just leaving? And two:" another finger pops up. "If he were possessed, why didn't he take the opportunity to kill us in our sleep? No, he's still him. And, for now, that's good."

I nod. Valid points, all, but I'm still not sure I believe it. I'm not sure Vash does either. He gets up, walks to the window and closes it, then turns around. "We'd be getting up around now, anyway. I suggest we go to work, try to have a normal day, and be Randy and Sarah Carter for as long as we can. If we let Ithaqua ruin our lives, we'll be letting him win, spiritually if not physically. Just going about our business lets him know he doesn't matter, and right now I think that's the biggest insult we can throw at him."

"Pretend we're living during the Blitz, in other words."

He chuckles humorlessly, sounding eerily similar to his absent brother. "Yeah, something like that."

We leave the room and head towards our ruined kitchen. One look at the stove tells us we won't be having eggs. Or bacon. Or sausage. Or any of that shit.

"Doughnuts it is, then."

No matter how desperate things get, I can always count on his little vice to bring a smile to his face. We walk out of the kitchen and back into the lives we'd created for ourselves.

-----------

_7:38 AM_

"Hey, Sarah, what happened?" a voice asks me as I walk in the kitchen.

I turn around and see Connie wearing a worried expression on her face. She was the first friend I had here at the Red Star Café, and she helped me out a lot in the early days when I was first starting here. Although she'd been here way longer than I had, she didn't bear any ill will towards me for climbing the ladder so fast. In fact, none of the cooks (of which there are five, myself not included) were envious or angry; they all said I deserved it. I get along with them pretty well, but Connie and I became best friends. We're the only ones here as of right now; everyone else still hasn't come in.

"I'm sorry?"

"I asked what was wrong. You look bummed."

"It's nothing."

She shakes her head and smiles. "Nice try, Sarah, but I know you better than that. Way better."

I open my mouth and close it again. What should I tell her? That an ancient demon-god is about to break free and wipe out life as we know it on this miserable little dustball of a planet, as well as a few others? Hell, any response _other _than a call to the local funny farm would be insane.

Finally I come up with something. "You remember my brother-in-law?"

"The ex-bandit?" I'd told her an expurgated version of the truth a while back.

I nod. "We think he has cancer, and we're not sure if he's gonna be able to pull through." Connie's reaction is instantaneous: her eyes widen in horror and understanding. Her uncle battled cancer for a while before succumbing early this spring. That's a reason that I told her that: it would evoke sympathy. And in a way, isn't it the truth? There's something in him that's slowly eating him away a bit at a time – isn't that what cancer is?

"Oh my God. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." She puts her hand on my shoulder. "Do you know how long he has?" I shake my head, then force a smile. "But he's a tough old bastard; he won't go down without a fight." And I hope he does. I've never liked him and still don't, but I still don't want him to become a slave again. No one deserves that. Not even him.

I hear Julio, another cook, walk in and flip the Closed sign over. I give Connie the old finger-to-the-lips sign. She understands: _it's our secret, 'kay?_ _I don't want to spend my first day as head cook getting sad looks and condolences from everyone. _

The creaky old order-carousel turns around with the first order of the day attached to it. I take down the paper: _scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages,  toast, coffee._

I read it, turn around, and get to work.

-----------

Vash

_8:53 AM_

"Hey Randy, what happened?" a voice asks me as I walk into the locker room.

I turn around and see Carl, another guard, looking at me with concern on his ruddy face. He helped me out a lot when I first started working here, and despite the fact that I'm about 2.3 times older than he is, I've always thought of him as fatherly. He's the only one here I can really call a friend; the other guards (eight, to be exact), are all indignant towards me. After all, they all were here a lot longer than I was, but I had to go and climb the damn ranks until I better than them, right? Least, that's what I think their deal is.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your eye. What happened?"

I open my mouth and close it again. What should I tell him? That it got hurt as a result of a trip to the abode of an ancient demon-god that's about to break free and wipe out life as we know it on this miserable little dustball of a planet, as well as a few others? Hell, any response _other _than a call to the local funny farm would be insane.

Finally I come up with something. "The gas main at our house exploded, and I got some shrapnel in the eye."

He grimaces and shudders. "Ych. That's just…_ow._"

I nod and force a smile. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. It wasn't very deep, and they were able to get it out before too much damage was done. I think it should be okay in a couple of weeks."

Carl nods, then laughs heartily and slaps me on the back. "Hell, Rand, it just makes you look more menacing. Good for a guard, 'specially the head one."

I laugh with him and he walks toward the door, the turns around. "Listen, you wanna swing by the bar after work? I'll buy ya a beer[U1] ."

I shake my head. "Can't. Meeting some folks from the insurance agency. You know, 'bout the gas main."

He nods, says, "Right, right. Well, maybe next time," and leaves.

I turn back to my locker and pull out my uniform. Gonna be a long day, I think.

-----------

_5:37 PM_

"What the hell _happened?_"

Meryl and I look at each other apprehensively. What should we tell her? That an emissary from an ancient demon-god that's about to…never mind. Let's stick with the gas main story.

In actuality, I'm a little surprised (and very relieved) that the agent – Jackie, I think she said her name was – doesn't recognize Meryl. Me, I'm not so worried about – only a few people know who I look like – but Meryl's damn near a legend in Bernardelli. After all, she's _The Woman Who Went Out To Cover Vash the Stampede_, the _Infamous Humanoid Typhoon_ and _Disappeared Along With The Notorious Outlaw_ after a _Giant Shootout_ that _Ripped Apart Half A Forest_. Milly still works for the company, but she hasn't done anything to deny the rumors. In a way, I'm glad; being officially MIA is a really effective way to get the bounty hunters off our asses. Needless to say, I wasn't looking forward to this meeting; if Jackie found out who Meryl was, our cover might be blown. Not that it matters much now, I guess, but still…

Jackie pulls out a notebook and a pen. "Just tell me exactly what happened, Mr. and Mrs. Carter."

We made up a story about what really happened over breakfast this morning, and I start it up. "We'd just finished eating breakfast yesterday morning at about 7:30, when we noticed it was getting kind of hot. We didn't think too much of it at the time, but then we heard a rumbling coming from underneath the floor."

Meryl picks up the story. "We got a little closer when suddenly a giant blast of flame erupted out of the floor, which then caved in along with half the wall. In the explosion, a large chunk of wood flew by and punctured his eye."

"And what did you do after that?" Jackie asks, all business.

"We ran like sonsabitches, of course." Me again. "When the living room wall came down, we thought the whole house was gonna go right with it, so we piled up into the jeep and drove to my brother's house. Finally, about 4:30 in the afternoon, we came back and saw the damage. And after spending a couple of hours checking everything, we called you."

Jackie continues writing. "And you believe it was due to your gas main rupturing."

"Yes," Meryl replies.

Jackie mutters something in reply, then stops writing. "All right, Mr. Carter, Mrs. Carter, I'll file the report and you should have an estimate sometime by the middle of next week." She reaches out and shakes our hands, then turns around and leaves.

We listen to her get in her car, start it up, and the pebbles clatter on the driveway as she leaves.

After a rather long bout of silence, I turn to Meryl.

"So, how was your day?"

She shrugs. "Fine, I guess. Y'know, average. Head cook's just like regular, only I got more to do. You?"

I shrug. "'Bout the same. Quiet day."

Yet another awkward silence.

Finally, we walk out to the front porch and sit down on the steps. I put my face in my hands and sigh. God, I hate knowing my days are numbered. I've never really thought about it before, not even when I was in shootouts or showdowns or even the occasional Mexican standoff. On those occasions, my rational mind left and was replaced by what I like to call my "gun brain" – the cold, calculating part of my mind that takes charge whenever my life is put in danger. But the thing is, I can't do that now because there's nothing really concrete for my gun brain to focus on. I mean, I have no clue what Ithaqua looks like, and I can't really focus on the cthonians – it's not really their fault; they're just mindless drones. And aside from that, I can't die naturally. So between my gun brain and my immortality, I've never really had to think about my own death before. And now that it's not just a possibility but a reality, I can't _stop_ thinking about it.

Is this what people with fatal illnesses feel like?

The earthquake snaps me out of my reverie. It starts low, a barely perceptible rumbling deep in the earth, then it quickly gets louder and more intense. Something huge blasts through the sand in front of us, and a panicked thought sweeps through my mind

(_oh dear god not again_)

when I realize it's not a cthonian – it's a machine. It looks like a giant dusty bullet, only with a huge drill at the end and tank treads on the sides. A hatch pops open on the top and someone jumps out.

He's wearing a trenchcoat, a khaki vest, black leather pants, motorcycle boots, and a large cowboy hat pulled down low over his face. But I don't need to see the chainsaw sticking out of his hand to know who it is.

"Knives!" Meryl shouts.

"I said I'd come back," Knives mutters, "Or did you all not believe me?"

I don't answer, mainly due to the fact that my mind's racing a dozen different directions, and a dozen different questions as well.

He hops off the driller and turns to me, and without my saying everything he answers them all. "I went out to get this. It was Hoppered the Gauntlet's little pet project, but he left it unfinished when you and the priest killed him. I thought we needed an edge if we were going to go up against the cthonians, so I went to get it from where he'd hid it outside of Little Arcadia. It took me longer than I expected to finish it up, but then again, I was only working with one hand. And speaking of my other hand…" The saw starts up, spins for a while, then abruptly stops. "I can control it with my mind. Yet another advantage, I think."

Meryl shakes her head. "But _why_?"

"Because of Milly." He lowers his head. "She's the closest thing I've ever had to a…a friend, and…" He looks up. "I can't just stand idly by while she might be being hurt. Ithaqua said she was fine, but I don't believe a word that bastard says. And if I don't do something soon, it'll be too late." He pauses. "Now are you with me or not?"

I hold up a hand and shake my head. "Okay, let me see if I've got this straight. You want to take the jury-rigged creation of an insane cyborg through the crushing mantle of this planet into the hell-pit – which, by the way, is probably crawling with a welcoming party – and gain access to an unimpregnable  prison-dimension known only as the 'Black Lodge', run a gauntlet of traps which Ithaqua surely has set for us, rescue Milly, and while we're there, give your omnipotent daddy what-for?"

"Yeah, basically."

I look to Meryl, then back to Knives and smile.

"Sounds like fun. Count me in."

* * *

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'"  [U1]


	9. Realization

I apologize for the shortness of the chapter; originally, I was going to interweave this with Vash, Knives, and Meryl's return to the Hellpit. However, I realized I'd gone almost a month without updating (mostly due to my losing my first draft of this chapter…still can't believe I did that), so I wrapped this part up and am sending it in. Yeah, I know it's short, confusing, and pretty weak, but don't worry: I have a definite idea of where this is going, and I think there are only going to be three or four more chapters. Oh, and things really kick into high gear next chapter!

Note: if you find yourself confused, refer back to Chapter Three.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these guys or the places they are at. I do, however, own what they say and do in here.

Chapter 9:

Realization

Milly

_Time unknown_

I get up from the chair I'd been sitting in and walk through the red curtains, into the hallway. I push against the curtains flanking the hall, but they don't give – i.e., there are walls behind them. I walk back into the room I was in, and feel along the perimeter, pushing the curtains. There's walls there, also, but only in certain places. Interesting…

So, I have four directions to choose from. Where to go, where to go…hmm…

I look down, at the zigzag tile design on the floor. Move in the direction they're going, or against the grain. I'll choose going with.

All right, Milly, remember the plan. Now _go!_

I take off and plow through the curtain in front of me, down the hallway and through that one into another room, through the curtain opposite it into another hallway, and so on and so forth.

My plan is twofold: _go straight _and _don't believe. _Last time I was running through this maze picking directions at random in a state of rapidly escalating panic, getting more and more lost until my mind was so frazzled that it must have been easy for this Higher Power (as the dancing man called it) to hijack my brain. But now I know better. If I stay focused and concentrated, it can't do anything. And if it throws something at me, all I have to do is remember that it doesn't exist. Like what Papa told me to do with the boogeyman when I was five years old. And as for going straight, that's simple logic: going straight will eventually get me to the edge of this maze. From there I can run along the edge until I find the exit.

And I'm not worried about food or water. When I was a teenager I was really into that whole "transcendental meditation" thingy and actually got pretty good at it. I learned how to slow down my digestive systems and metabolism so that, should needs be, I can go for up to two days without eating or drinking anything. Ain't exactly camel standards, but it'll do.

My mind stops as I enter a room and find someone sitting there. It looks like Meryl, but I know it isn't.__

"Hi, there, Milly," the Meryl-thing says as it fixes me with it's blank eyes.

"Howdy," I reply.

She/it smiles. "You know you're stuck here, right?" She leans forward. "You know we aren't coming to get you."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, come on. Is this the best you can do?"

The Meryl-thing cocks her head to one side. "Why, Milly, dear, whatever do you mean?"

"I know you don't exist. I know that you're just a stupid phantasm, pulled out of my head." The thing laughs, a malicious cackle. "For one thing, you say you're not coming – but you're already here. For another, your laugh isn't like Meryl's at all. And third, do you think I can't see your stupid white eyes? I mean, that's just _pathetic._"

She/it laughs again, only the laughter has an edge now. The smile drops from its face and is replaced by deadly seriousness.

"Very good, little girl," the Meryl-thing growls in a guttural voice completely unlike the one it was just using, "well played. But keep this in mind; I and my kind are not the only ones in here. There are many rooms alike, and all are occupied by different spirits every night. I hope for your sake that you do not encounter them." It opens its mouth wide, double rows of needle-sharp teeth burst out of its gums and blood runs down its chin, scarlet splattering all over it's white shirt. It explodes in a flash of dirty-orange light, and when the spots leave my eyes, I see that the thing is gone. The bloodstains are still on the floor, though.

_Well, _that_ was interesting, _I think as I start walking again.

I walk through three more rooms, but the bloodstains aren't on the floors, causing a tingle of victory to flow through me; I just love being right.

I run for a while without another incident. But I'm also starting to get a little freaked out. I mean, I've been doing this for about an hour now, I think (my watch tells me it's 14:67 on February 38th, which apparently is both a Friday or a Sunday; needless to say, I don't really trust it) and the scenery hasn't changed a bit. That doesn't bother me so much, though – desert vistas never change, either, and I'm used to them – but the lunatic hugeness of this place does. I mean, how many exactly similar rooms can there be? And how come whenever I made a change in one room beforehand, all the rooms changed – but not now? And how many more rooms do I have to run through until I get too theh edge? God, I could really use some pudding right n-

_WHAM!_

Oh, ow…

I pick myself up off the floor, gingerly feeling my nose. Nothing broken, that's good, but Christ that hurt!

…waitaminute. I ran into a wall where a door should be. Does that mean what I think it does? Only one way to find out.

I open the curtain and am met with a wall. Yup, that's what I thought: I've reached the edge of the maze. Which way to go now? Hmm…left or right, left or right, left or…

Left works for me.

Through another hall, into another room. I check the curtain to my left. Still a wall. Next room, wall behind the curtain. Same with the next room. Next room, same. Next room, same. Same, same, same, same, same.

Eighteen rooms down the line, I open up a door and find a shuttered window. This is promising, if I can get the shutters open to see where it goes. I wedge my hands in the crack between and pull with all my might. Nothing at first, then there's an enormous KRAK! and I fly backward and land on the statue, knocking it and the pedestal over. For the second time in fifteen minutes, I pick myself up off the ground and stretch out, feeling the cricks in my back and neck. I feel a sharp pain in my leg and notice a marble shard sticking out of the back of my thigh. I pull it out, and not that much blood flows out, so I think I'm safe in assuming that it's just a flesh wound. Good thing, too: I am not pulling down my jeans to get at it, not while I know I'm being watched. Limping a little, I walk to the window.

Of all the things I was expecting, this was most definitely _not_ one of them.

I freeze, feel my eyes widen in shock and I turn around and back up so sharply my back slams against the wall next to the window. I squeeze my eyes shut and jam my fist into my mouth and bite down to stifle what might be the only scream of terror I've ever uttered since puberty. Finally, when I get my breathing and heartbeat under control, I turn back around and look back out the window, hoping blindly that what I saw was just a hallucination. But it isn't. It's there.__

This isn't Gunsmoke. It's oblivion. Not darkness, but _oblivion_. I recognize it for what it is because darkness isn't alive, it doesn't pulse or writhe or expand. And there are _things_ in there. Bad things. Things huge and black and almost without shape. Things with fiery red eyes, flat eyes, eyes with no soul in them. Things that only want to kill and consume and suck out all that is good in this world and replace it with death and darkness.

I want to tell myself that it's just an illusion, that it's just the Higher Power screwing with my head, but this is _real. _I just know it, deep in my soul.

But dear God, _what are they?_

"They are the future, my dear," a familiar voice says from behind me. "The future of your puny universe and every other."

I shut my eyes again. Don't listen to him, Milly, he isn't really there.

"Oh, but I _am_, Milly. I'm here just like you are." The voice gets closer. "I can see you haven't entirely enjoyed your stay here in my little abode. So, I shall make it up to you. Open your eyes, my lady, and gaze upon the true inhabitants if this universe. We lost our foothold here once, but never again. We may now take back what is rightfully ours, in a large part thanks to the generous energies donated by my son, whose form I now wear."

My eyes open in a shock that burns me to the core, but I shut them firmly again and keep my back to him. It's all a lie, a great big lie, that thing isn't his father, it _can't_ be, I won't believe–

"You _best _believe it, dearie." The thing's right behind me now, and I can feel its fetid breath on my neck as its voice drops to a whisper. "He'll be coming here, along with his imbecile brother and your lady friend." It chuckles low in my ear and places its hand on my shoulder, and I have to make an effort not to shudder at its wormy touch. "I left a welcome wagon for them, but I'm sure they'll take most of it out. In fact, I suspect they should be along at any moment." Its lips press against the shell of my ear and my disgust triples. "And when they finally come in," it breathes, "the fun will _really _start." I feel its cold, slimy tongue slip into my ear canal and the dam bursts. I spin around and slam the thing in it's false face with all my might over and over and I can feel the skin of my knuckles break, but I don't care. I pummel it again and again in its face, its gut, its groin, all the while screaming in pure fury. When I finally stop it doesn't look even vaguely recognizable; it looks like my doll that Big Big brother burned with a magnifying glass when I was seven and he twelve.

The ruined face contorts into what was supposed to be a smile, but now looks like a sadistic grimace. "You have a lot of spirit, girl. I'll let you live for now. Perhaps I'll even give you a ringside seat for Armageddon. Just wait for the deathflash." It laughs and disappears in another flash of orange light. __

I run as fast as my wounded leg will let me, not looking back, not looking to either side, just running and ducking through curtains and trying not to lose control. It was all a lie, Milly, just keep telling yourself that. That's it. All lies. Why would that thing tell you the truth, it's a liar, it has to be, he can't be his father, his _father_, he can't be, there's just no way

(in large part due to energies donated)

no, he didn't give up any energy ever, except maybe –

(I call it my angel arm)

stop thinking that, he didn't know what he was doing, besides he was being _forced _to do it, that's what he said, that's what he told me and he wouldn't lie

(energies donated)

(angel arm energy donated)

(two cities angel energy)

(two cities destroyed lots of energy)

(July Augusta)

(energies donated…during the destruction?)

I stop running and fall into one of the chairs.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my _God_…it's all true…

I can't cry. Not now. Not while that _thing_ is watching me. But…but…oh dear Jesus how can he be it's _son_?

"I'm not sure, Milly. He just is."

No. Not _him_ again. Not again. Never again. I feel rage building up inside me again. How dare it come back to me in that form? How _dare_ it? Hasn't it already done enough to dirty his name? In one swift move I leap up and charge into him, fists and feet and teeth flying. Why won't this miserable bastard just leave me alone? Why does it have to guilt-trip me and violate me every chance he gets? Why why why why _WHY?!_

"Milly! Milly, stop! It's me. It's _me!_"

He catches my hands and holds them and forces my eyes to meet his, but they're not blank. They're deep and rich and _alive_.

"It's just me."

It…no. No, I want to believe it, but I can't. Not after what I've been through. Besides, he's _dead._

It nods. "I _am_ dead, Milly. But I'm really me. I'm not one of _his_ minions."

I shake my head. "I…I can't believe you. I'm sorry, but I just can't."

He takes my hand in both of his and holds my gaze. "Do you want me to prove it to you? Do you want me to tell you how I know you like chocolate pudding the best because it was the first kind you ever had? Or how you got so good at chess because your brother made you play it with him all the time when you were little? Or how your first pet dog got run over by a drunk driver and you cried for a week because you felt you were responsible? Or how you got your first kiss under the mistletoe at a Christmas party when you were 16, and afterwards you wondered what the big deal was? Or-"

"STOP!" I scream, trying to hide my tears. "Just…please stop."

"Or how I told you that, no matter what you did in this world or the next one, I'd always love you?"

I stop trying to hide it. Great, heaving sobs hitch out of my chest and I bury my face in his shoulder and wrap my arms around him. It _is_ him. It really is. It's really Wolfwood.

"You did a great thing, you know," he whispers in my ear once I get myself under control. "For Knives. You were able to do what no one else did. You did more than heal him, you _saved _him. You made him sane again."

I look up at him, surprised. He nods and smiles. "Oh, yes, I know about that. I've been watching you for a while. In fact, I've, uh, been your guardian angel." His smile fades. "But it's been hard following you in this place."

"What is this place, anyway?"

He shrugs uncomfortably. "It's, um…I'm not sure I can explain it, at least not without blowing your brain apart. You better sit down for this." I do, and he sits next to me and takes my hand in his.

"You see, Milly, this isn't real. Well, no, it _is_, but…" his brows furrow, deep in thought. "It's a different kind of reality. In this place, all the laws of physics are completely thrown out the window and everything is done according to a single design. Even time is funky; a day over here can last months over on the other side. Now, originally, this was a prison for a really nasty thing I'll call BOB, but-"

"_BOB?_"

He waves his hand dismissively. "It's a name he went by once. Anyway, BOB's been able to gain control of this place somewhere down the line, but it's only partial control. He can't influence things directly, but…"

"But he can influence the mind of anything that comes in here," I finish.

"Exactly. But since everything's fundamentally different, it takes a huge effort just to be here, and I already got tired and blinked out once. That's why I wasn't there for you when he…when…" He hangs his head. "When he violated you." Anger starts creeping into his voice. "I'm so sorry. Words can't say how sorry I am. I know that just sounds corny, but it's true." He laughs bitterly. "Here I am, charged with a task by God himself, to be looking out for you, and I wasn't when you needed me to the most. I could have stopped him, or distracted him, or something, but I didn't!" He gets up and shoves one of the lamps over, then slams his fist into his forehead. "I didn't do anything! Not a goddamn _thing! _All because I got tired and let my watch drop! Aw, God, I completely fucking _abandoned _you, Milly!" I take his hand, but he avoids my gaze.

"Nick, it's okay." He shakes his head. "No, Milly, it isn't. I mean, what he did to you was the absolute worst thing that can happen to anyone, even death." Tears of pure rage stream from his eyes as his voice starts rising. "I mean, when you're dead, that's it. Dead, gone, no one can do anything else to you. But _rape_, rape you have to live with, forever! People say you get over it eventually, but they're fucking liars. It never goes away! _Never! _And I let it happen to you Oh God I'm so fucking _worthless!_"

"_Stop it!_" I slap him across the face, and he quiets, the rage in his dark eyes replaced by shock.

"That was for calling yourself worthless. You can't beat yourself up over something you had no control over." He opens his mouth to protest, but I hold up a hand and he shuts it again. "Whatever happens to us happens for a reason, and there was a reason you weren't there, that you 'blinked out.' " I put my hand on his tearstained cheek. "Nick, if it hadn't happened, I would have never figured out how to beat this thing, this BOB. I would never have figured out his weakness."

A thin smile spreads over his face, and I return it. "And what you told me that night holds true for you too," I say. "No matter what you do, in this world or the next, I'll always love you. Always." I lean forward and kiss away his tears, and he laughs and wipes away the rest. "Well, Milly, if nothing else, you can say you've seen an angel cry." __

"Nick, is what he – BOB – is what he said true? Is his son really–"

"Yes," he replies, all jocularity gone too.

"But…but then…" something comes together in my mind and I feel fresh horror wash over me. "My god…the deathflash…" I whisper.

"What is it?"

"He said to watch out for the deathflash. I just figured out what he meant!"

"Milly, what's a deathflash?"

"When we die, we lose all our life energy in one massive surge. They call it a deathflash." I lean closer. "Don't you see? I'm bait, Nick! I'm here to make sure his son will come! And when he does, BOB's going to kill him! And then he'll use the energy from the deathflash to get free!" I jump up off the couch and run to the curtain. "I have to get out of here and warn him!"

He shakes his head sadly. "No you don't, Milly. It doesn't matter anymore."

I spin around, shocked.

"Milly, they're already here. All three of them. That's what I originally came here to tell you. It's too late."


End file.
